Star Tron: Escalations
by MustangAce
Summary: When an Alliance outpost is attacked, it starts a chain of events that could change the course of the war. FINISHED.
1. The Better Mouse Trap

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that belongs to either World Events Productions or Paramount. What are mine are the crew of the _Berlin_ except for Mordock and Scotty, and the fighter _Thunderwing_, as well as the story itself._

_ Historical Note: For anyone interested, this story begins on stardate 51378.2, or May 17, 2374._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 1: The Better Mouse Trap

Cheddar stuck his head around the corner and looked toward the command console. There it was! Pidge had left another sandwich unguarded. The Green Lion pilot was nowhere in sight. The mouse's ears twitched as he listened for any sign on Pidge in the area.

Nothing.

He turned around and squeaked to the other mice behind him. At once, Cheesy, Pip, Squeak and Chitter joined him, and the group scurried across the floor toward the console. This was going to be easy.

Suddenly, just as the mice reached the console, Haggar's blue cat appeared out of nowhere. Staring down at the mice, it yowled and hisses threateningly.

The five terrified mice jumped into the air, shrieking and waving their arms, then ran for the door as fast as they could. Just as they reached the heavy blast doors, they began to open, revealing a pair of tall, white boots blocking their path. Without a second thought, the mice began to climb, and kept going until they were all on Allura's shoulders, peeking out timidly from behind her neck and ears.

Allura was startled to find the mice climbing her clothes as she walked into Castle Control. She looked at Cheddar and asked, "What's the matter?"

The mouse squeaked and pointed hysterically at the main console, eyes wide with fear. Allura looked where Cheddar pointed, and saw the cat. She gasped and reached for her blaster as the cat suddenly faded and disappeared.

Then, as she looked around in confusion, she heard laughter coming from the corner, behind a bank of subsystem monitors. Blaster at the ready, she moved closer. Peering around the side of the monitors, she was surprised to see . . .

"Pidge?"

The boy looked up at her, snickering uncontrollably. "Oh, he, he, hey, Allura."

"What's going on? I just saw Haggar's cat."

"That wasn't the blue cat," Pidge said, stepping out from behind the monitors. "That was my new S.S.S."

"Your what?"

"Sandwich Security System. It was a hologram." He pointed to a small device he was carrying. "Maybe now those mice will stop trying to steal my food," he added, looking pointedly at Cheddar.

"Oh, Pidge, when will you stop picking on those poor, helpless mice?" Allura asked. Cheddar shook his small fist in the air, squeaking his support.

"When they stop trying to steal my snacks," Pidge replied matter-of-factly.

Allura looked again at the device Pidge was holding. It was a boxy, gray object with red and white markings on it. She'd never seen anything like it. "Where did you get that, anyway?"

"Adam."

Allura rolled her eyes. _Figures_, she thought.

During the exchange between Pidge and Allura, the mice had snuck off to the command console. Pidge happened to glance over just in time to see his sandwich walk off the plate on ten furry feet. "Hey!" he yelled.

Realizing they'd been spotted, the mice made a break for it. They made it to their mouse hole just as Pidge reached them. He knelt down and peered inside, seeing the mice hungrily tear into his sandwich.

"Hey, that's mine!" Pidge protested.

In reply, the mice made faces and gave him the raspberry.

Allura couldn't help but smile. As bright a kid as Pidge was, he still had problems outsmarting those mice. It looked like the Snack Wars would go on for quite a while yet.

Just then, a light on the main panel lit up, indicating an incoming message. Seeing as Pidge was otherwise occupied, Allura decided to take care of it herself. Touching a control, she saw that the source was a remote Alliance base near the edge of the galaxy. The message itself was an automated signal, data-only. Allura downloaded and displayed the message.

"Pidge!" she called.

"Yeah?"

"We're getting a distress signal."

"From where?" the boy asked, joining Allura at the console, his sandwich forgotten. He scanned the message, then punched a button for the intercom. "Control Room to Keith."

"_Go ahead, Pidge_."

"We're getting a distress call from Space Station Tango Seven. I think you should come up here."

"_On my way. Round up the others_."

"Aye, aye."

Pidge called Lance, Hunk, and Coran, and within moments, everyone was gathered around the console. A second message indicator lit up, and Coran answered it. "This is Castle Control. Go ahead."

"_Coran, it's Adam. We're getting a distress call up here. Looks like an Alliance base_."

"Affirmative. We have received the same message. It's from Tango Seven, a research outpost near the edge of the Cerulean Quadrant." Coran replied. He scanned the message, gleaning the most important details. "It appears they're under attack."

"Tango Seven is two days flight for the Lions," said Keith. "And we're the closest help. Everything else in range belongs to Zarkon."

There was a pause, during which Keith read over the message for himself. The base had been hit by a sizeable force of fighters and star cutters. Worse, the message was eleven hours old. By now, the battle was over, whatever the outcome.

"_We can make it in ten hours and change, Keith. You're sure there's nothing closer_?" Adam asked.

Keith glanced at Pidge, who shook his head. "No, nothing."

"_Okay, then it looks like we're up. Cover the wormhole for us while we're gone."_

"No problem," Keith replied.

"_Right. Driscoll out_."

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Driscoll rose from his seat and walked over to then helm officer. "Mike, set course for Space Station Tango Seven. Warp speed, all ahead flank."

Curtis' hands flew over his console. "Course laid in, speed set."

"Engage."

On the viewer, the image of Arus dropped away quickly, replaced by a fast-moving starfield. The viewer was streaked briefly by vivid colors, before settling into the image of stars whipping by at warp speed.

Returning to his seat, he punched a control on the arm. "Driscoll to sickbay."

"_Saladin here_."

"Sheik, we just got assigned a rescue mission. You have eight hours to get ready to receive casualties."

"How many?"

"Unknown. Plan for 500 to 1,000. We expect better numbers shortly.

"Human?"

"Humanoid, at least," Driscoll replied.

"Aye, sir. We'll be ready."

"Good. Driscoll out." He turned to Jacobs. "T.J., get your people ready, too. I want you to coordinate the rescue operation, as far as getting people aboard and squared away. And have Scotty prepare a team, too. If that base can be restored to functionality, it'll help relieve the stress on our systems."

"Yes, sir."

Driscoll nodded and rose from his chair. "I'll be in my ready room, Gredar. You have the bridge." In a less than half a day, all hell was gonna break loose, and he needed to get some information. "Call me when we enter Doom space."

Gredar grunted in reply, his silver eyes glinting. He didn't fully agree with the Captain's hasty decision, but humans were known to be impulsive, and Driscoll was no exception.

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Keith watched the sensor displays as the _Berlin_ sped out of the system, and was lost to the Castle's sensors. If the starship kept to regulations, they wouldn't hear from her for an hour, until they crossed into Doom territory. She would be gone for at least a day, and maybe upwards of three. Three days without their support. Without _Thunderwing_.

Not that they couldn't handle it. They'd managed just fine before the Federation showed up. But if Lotor decided to attack the wormhole, they'd have to leave Arus to defend it, and the planet would be almost completely unprotected.

"Hunk, Pidge, take your Lions up and cover the wormhole. Lance and I will be up to relieve you in four hours. We're going to have to keep a 'round the clock watch until the _Berlin_ gets back."

"Right, Keith," Hunk replied. Pidge nodded as Coran raised the console, exposing the launch tubes. Within seconds, they were gone.

"What about me, Keith?" Allura asked.

The Voltron Force commander regarded the Princess a moment. The look in her eyes dared him to keep her on the ground. She wanted to share in the rotation. For a moment, his need to protect her fought with his commander's instinct to put her in.

Finally, he said, "You and Hunk will relieve Lance and I."

Allura smiled. "Okay."

Coran cleared his throat. "In that case, you should all get some rest. You're going to be doing a lot of flying over the next couple of days."

"Good thinking, Coran," said Keith. He led the way out of the Control Room followed by Lance and Allura. The Princess split off and headed for her chambers, while Lance walked with Keith, as their rooms were next to each other.

Keith noticed the way Lance was glancing at him. "Something on your mind, Lance?"

"Man, do you have and idea what you looked like in there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Keith, when Allura asked you what she was supposed to do, it took you forever to answer. Then when she smiled . . ."

"Drop it, Lance."

"Aw, come on, Keith. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, she's gorgeous, smart. . ."

"Lance . . ." Keith warned.

They reached Keith's door and walked into the room. "Look, you didn't blow your cool. But we've been together since the Academy. I know you."

"Lance, we've had this discussion before. Nobody goes after the Princess. She's out of bounds."

"Well, she and Adam have been spending a lot of time together lately."

A pang of jealousy shot through Keith, but he reined it in. "I can't stop Adam from doing anything."

Lance looked at him. He'd seen Keith's reaction, and it only confirmed his suspicions. "All I'm trying to say, Keith, is let it be. Control yourself all you want, but. . ."

"Lance, I know what you're about to say, and don't. I've had enough. I want to rest before we fly."

Lance knew better than to argue. He'd pushed Keith far enough for one day. "Okay. I was just saying. I'll see you in a few hours."

Keith nodded, and Lance left the room. He knew exactly what his friend was getting at. Lance knew how he felt about Allura, and was trying to encourage him. But Keith was never the Casanova that Lance was. He'd always been shy and insecure in approaching women. He could command a fighter wing effortlessly in the heat of combat, but talking to girls was an impossible mission. Especially feeling how he did about Allura.

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his long, black hair, then flopped down at his desk and opened a folder.

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A/N: For some reason, my formatting didn't transfer properly the first time I posted this chapter, so it was a little hard to keep straight. Sorry about that. Everything seems to be working fine now, though.


	2. When The Cat's Away

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that is copyrighted material by World Events Productions or Paramount. What are mine are the crew of the _Berlin _(except for Mordock and Scotty), and the fighter _Thunderwing_, as well as the story itself._

Crash77A: The stardates I use are based on the date of _First Contact_ and a rather complex but seemingly accurate calculation I found on the Internet. I'm not really trying to match it too closely to the Dominion War. As far as how many of these there will be, I don't really see an end in sight. I have several others already written, but they take place about a year from the events in my current story, in the second season of the original VF, so those will be a while in coming, and also I have written some based on V3D.

T.F. Kit: Thanks for the encouragement. Truthfully, I haven't decided how the Keith, Adam, Allura thing will turn out. I always hated the layout of these things where the leader automatically gets the girl. It's too played-out. If Keith does get Allura, he's gonna have to fight for her, maybe literally. But whatever happens, it won't be decided any time soon.

C-town Chica: Welcome aboard. If you want to know who Adam is, I suggest you read my previous two stories, Star Tron: The Black Suits Cometh and Star Tron: Louder Than Words.

RedLion2: I'll never be out of action long. Just enough to refuel and rearm, then its on to the next sortie. You're right, neither of them will back down. And the thing with the mice was kind of a fluke, but I liked it. They get too little space in these fics, so I'm gonna try to give them some spots in mine.

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 2: When the Cat's Away…

As expected, Coran received a message from the _Berlin _as she crossed into Doom territory. He relayed this information to Keith.

"What did it say, Coran?" Keith asked.

"Adam said, 'Crossing border, will contact and advise when on target.'"

"Nothing else?"

"No. It was an encrypted microburst transmission. Such messages are simple as a rule."

Keith nodded. From here on, no news would be good news. Crossing such large tracts of enemy territory as the _Berlin _was, stealth was essential to victory, as was speed. Luckily, the Federation ship had plenty of both. For now, at least.

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Allura couldn't sleep. She knew she should, as she'd be flying in the middle of the night, but despite Coran's advice that everyone get some rest, she just couldn't seem to relax. Her mind was too full. As was becoming common lately, she couldn't' help but think about all that was happening with her planet and people, the reconstruction, and the new alliance with the Federation. But it was more than that. Beyond all the relatively normal concerns, she couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Very wrong. But she couldn't put her finger on it.

_Stop it, you're just being silly_, she chided herself. And she believed it. They were watching for anything that might be trouble, the boys were guarding the wormhole, and the _Berlin_ was safe.

But then why did she have this feeling?

She had learned to trust these gut feelings. They had served her well in the past. She had a feeling before the Voltron Force arrived, before Lotor returned to plague her, and before the Starfleeters arrived, as well as on several other important occasions. And now, something told her that something very bad was about to happen. Something that would have far-reaching consequences.

Restless now, she rose and headed for her study. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well look over some of the reports she'd been putting off.

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"Two minutes to Doom border, Commander," Curtis reported.

Gredar grunted and touched his combadge. "Captain Driscoll to the bridge."

Less than a minute later, Driscoll appeared from the door to his ready room. Before the refit, he had used a small office on deck two, since his ready room had been packed with extra computer gear. But since the refit, he was able to use the regular ready room again, and had given the other office to Gredar to use.

"Report," said Driscoll.

"We are approaching the border," said Gredar. "Crossing in nine seconds."

"Okay, yellow alert, notify Arus, then activate stealth measures. Mordock, what's out there?"

"I have three star-cutters within sensor range. None of them are in position to intercept."

"Good. Mr. Curtis, maintain course and best speed."

"Aye, sir."

Several minutes passed as the bridge crew settled into silent operations mode for the nine-hour flight to Space Station Tango Seven.

After verifying that all sections had gone silent, Lieutenant Maria Singh began monitoring communications, as was part of her duty as operations manager. Not thirty seconds went by before she intercepted a priority message sent by one of the star-cutters. Once the computer decrypted it, she read it over, and didn't like what she read one bit. "Captain?"

"Yeah, Maria?"

"Looks like our cover's blown. One of those star-cutters just sent a message to Doom, telling them about us."

"Damn. Well, it can't be helped. We've probably got a few more hours until they can do anything about it, so we'll maintain silent ops and continue as planned for now."

"Lieutenant Mordock," Gredar rasped. "Focus passive scanning on a 90-degree arc directly ahead."

"Yes, sir."

Driscoll looked at Gredar. "Thanks, Gredar. Didn't think of that."

Gredar growled, but said nothing. But Driscoll thought that it somehow sounded less severe than usual.

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"So the _Berlin_ is paying us another visit?" Zarkon asked rhetorically. He dismissed the guard that had brought him the message and called for Lotor.

A few minutes later, Lotor strode into the throne room, holding his helmet under his arm, his cape billowing behind him.

"You saw this?" Zarkon asked, holding up the message.

"Yes, Father. But I do not understand. We have no significant installations in that area, and there are no bases at all along their course."

"None of _our_ bases, no. But they are on a direct heading for the Alliance base Tango Seven."

Lotor frowned. "So they did manage to get a distress call out."

"So it would seem. I trust that our business there is concluded?"

Lotor nodded. "Our raiding party is on their way back. The _Berlin_ will find nothing at the base."

"Well, that won't do at all," said Zarkon.

"What do you mean?"

"We mustn't forget our manners, Lotor. After coming all this way, it would be a shame for our dear Captain Driscoll to find no one home. I believe that the 27th battle group is in the area?"

"Yes, they are," Lotor replied, understanding his father's meaning. "I'll see that they give the _Berlin_ a warm welcome." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"There is another opportunity here, Sire," said a soft, gravelly voice. A moment later, Haggar stepped out of the shadows, holding her blue cat. "If the _Berlin _is here, that means that the wormhole is unguarded."

"Voltron is still there," Zarkon replied.

"Perhaps a diversion, then?"

Zarkon smiled slightly. The witch never missed a beat. "Perhaps," he replied.

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At the Castle of Lions, Lance was on watch in the Control Room. He kept one sensor grid trained on Hunk, Allura, and the wormhole, while the others scanned the sky for danger.

And that's exactly what he found.

A light on his board alerted him to the incoming fighters. Sixty Doom Stingers headed straight for the castle. He punched the alarm button, and the klaxons blared throughout the palace. Within moments, Coran, Keith, and Pidge came racing in.

"What is it?" Keith asked.

"Sixty fighters coming in. They'll be here in two minutes."

"Then let's get up there," said Keith. Lance surrendered the console to Coran, and a moment later, he joined Keith and Pidge in the launch tubes.

Black, Red, and Green Lions formed up above the castle as the fighters came streaking in toward it. The Lions engaged the fighters as the castle's defensive batteries opened up, filling the sky with laser-flak.

"Should we call Allura and Hunk to help?" Pidge asked.

"No, leave them," Keith replied as Black Lion struck down three fighters in quick succession. "They need to cover the wormhole."

"Right," Pidge said, shooting down two fighters with Green Lion's space torpedoes.

Just then, Lance swooped in, crushing a fighter in Red Lion's jaws less than thirty feet from Pidge.

"Yow! Watch it!" Pidge shouted.

"Don't worry, buddy, Lance has it all under control." Just then, Red Lion was blasted sideways by a fighter and fell toward the ground. Pidge dove and shredded the fighter with Green Lion's claws as Lance pulled out of the dive.

"'All under control,' huh?"

"Well, almost all," Lance amended as he and Pidge climbed back into the fight. Joining up with Keith, they tore into a knot of fighters, the Lions roaring as they unleashed a furious gauntlet of steel claws, teeth, and missiles.

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Allura was startled by the buzzer warning her of incoming ships. She called up the sensor log, and gasped as she saw forty Doom fighters heading straight toward her and Hunk.

"Hunk, watch out. We've got fighters coming our way!"

"The castle's under attack, too," Hunk replied.

"How do you know?"

"Coran just called up."

The Princess glanced at her panel and saw the "incoming transmission" indicator lit. She hit a control, saying, "What's going on, Coran?"

"A group of enemy fighters is attacking the castle. Keith and the others are handling it. You are to hold position."

"Coran, we've got fighters coming after us, too."

"I'll send the others as soon as I can, but you must hold the wormhole by yourselves for now."

"All right, Coran." She closed the channel and glanced at Hunk's image on the intercom. "We've got to hold them off, Hunk. Let's go."

Blue Lion set off toward the fighters with a bound, Hunk following close behind. The distance between the Lions and the fighters closed quickly.

Blue Lion was the first to fire. "Ion darts!" Allura announced, sending a hail of blue energy bolts at the gaggle of fighters. Seven were hit and exploded in clouds of flame and debris. Hunk followed up with a shot from his plasma cannon, blowing up three more.

Then, they met. The fighters dodged away as the distance closed to zero. Both Lions attacked with claw strikes, but there were too many fighters. Over twenty still remained as the group reformed and made a break for the wormhole.

"Hunk! The wormhole!"

"I'm on it!" Hunk replied. Yellow Lion turned and raced after the fighters, with Blue Lion just behind.

As they neared the wormhole, the group split in two, half making for the wormhole while the rest turned back.

"I'll get that group," said Allura, indicating the ones that broke off.

"Right. I'll stay with these guys," Hunk replied.

Allura turned and went after the second group as Hunk began firing at the first group, picking them off with missiles one-by-one.

But as Allura closed to fire Blue Lion's ice cannon, the fighters rounded on her. She broke hard and went into a split-S, narrowly escaping the laser barrage. Coming around beneath the fighters, she shot toward them, tearing three of them apart as she blew through the formation.

The others gave chase, closing in. Allura watched her sensors, and as they came into weapons range, she began jinking, the Lion making sharp jump-turns left, right, up, and down while firing its tail laser. Then, on one of the downward turns, she went into an outside loop, surprising her pursuers, who were slow to react.

Suddenly, the enemy formation scattered. Allura chose a target and accelerated toward it. She gritted her teeth and held the control yoke in a white-knuckled grip. "Electro-claws!" she yelled, and the Lion struck, shredding the fighter.

She destroyed three others this way, before the others gave up and fled.

A few minutes later, the wormhole opened, and Yellow Lion appeared. "Hunk? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, sure, Allura. I'm fine. Can't say the same about those fighters, though," the big guy replied with a grin.

"I took care of mine, too," said Allura. "Now come on, let's go help the others."

With Allura in the lead, the two Lions raced for Arus to aid their comrades. What neither one of them saw, though, was a lone fighter from the group that engaged Allura, as it headed quickly through the wormhole.


	3. Frustrations

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted material by World Events Productions or Paramount. What are mine are the crew of the _Berlin (_except for Mordock and Scotty_),_ and the fighter, _Thunderwing _as well as the story itself._

_And thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. And a special thanks to RedLion2, who plugged me in the intro to chapter 15 of her great story, Summer Journey._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 3: Frustrations

By the time Allura and Hunk reached Arus, the battle was over. All around the castle, columns of smoke stretched skyward, marking the final resting places of the Doom fighters.

As Allura and Hunk stepped out of the launch tubes and into Castle Control, they found Keith, Lance, and Pidge comparing notes on the battle.

"Man, that was an awesome setup," Lance was saying. "It was like a pinball machine, bing-bing-bing," he said, jerking his hand around in a zigzag. "I musta got eight on that one pass."

"Yeah, and Pidge shot twice that many off of you," Keith scolded.

"Aw, come on, I was fine."

Hunk joined in, talking about nailing fighters as they tried to escape into Federation space, while Allura drifted over to Coran. As she approached, the old advisor shook his head. "Pilots," he grumbled.

Allura smiled. "Let them have their fun."

Coran nodded. "Yes, you're right, of course." He'd noticed that about the young princess. Under Keith's tutelage, she'd obtained a functional knowledge of military operations. And with that came and understanding that the ability to unwind and relax after combat was just as important as the tactics used on the battlefield.

"How bad was the damage?" she asked.

"Not bad at all. Between the Lions and the guns, we suffered only some shield damage and a few armor plates blown off. To be honest, it almost seemed like they weren't trying to attack us at all."

"The group that attacked us tried to go through the wormhole."

"Then this group may have only been a diversion."

"If that's the case, they failed. Hunk destroyed all the fighters that tried to go through."

"Are you sure?" Keith asked.

Allura hadn't seen him approach, and his question startled her. She turned to face him, and she felt something stir in her as she looked at him, but quickly reined it in. _Forget it. He's not even interested,_ she thought. "Yes. All of the fighters were out of sensor range before Hunk and I left," she replied.

Keith nodded.

The two looked at each other for a moment, then Keith turned and addressed the others. "Okay. That was some good work, but we're not done yet. Allura, you and Hunk still have to complete your rotation. Pidge, you and Lance are up next."

"Keith, you're a slave driver, you know that?"

Keith ignored his friend's wisecrack. "Let's get going, people."

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Two hours later, Keith was on his way to Castle Control. As he came around a corner, her collided with Allura, who was coming from the adjoining corridor. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders to steady her, but found herself reluctant to let go.

"Keith, are you all right?" Allura asked.

Keith dropped his hands sheepishly. "Uh, I uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that, Princess."

Allura couldn't help the bit of disappointment that gripped her momentarily at the sound of her title. "It's all right, Keith."

"You know, I'm glad I ran into you."

"Really?" Allura's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you, uh . . ."

"Yes?"

"Uh, I wanted to say, 'well done'."

"I'm sorry?"

"You did well in that fight. I looked over the sensor logs, and you looked good. And you shot down more fighters than you have in a long time."

"Oh." She didn't really know what else to say.

"Yeah. It looks like all that training with Adam is paying off."

Allura smiled. "Yes, it is."

Keith nodded. "Good. Well, I've gotta see Coran now, so I'll see you around."

"Sure," Allura replied, heading off down the hall.

Once she was gone, Keith slapped himself in the forehead. _DUH!_ He'd had a perfect chance right there, and he'd blown it. Worse, he brought his competition into it. Lance had told him how Adam was getting very friendly with Allura, and it made him greener than a Medusan with envy. But how could he break his own rule?

He'd had the perfect opportunity right there to tell her how he felt, and instead he'd talked about her combat performance. Hardly the most romantic of topics. One of his natural reactions to stress was to slip into "soldier" mode. Usually, it saved his butt, but it was entirely the wrong reaction for this situation.

So, confused and disgusted, Keith continued on to Castle Control.

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Keith wasn't the only one feeling frustrated. Allura too had found the encounter disappointing. Just when it felt like he was going to open up, he shut her down. All he'd wanted was to compliment her on her improvement. She really thought he was going to say something more meaningful.

Maybe Nanny was right. Maybe she just had a crush on Keith. A simple, girlish crush. He was one of the first men she'd met that was close to her own age, and not one of her subjects. He was handsome, smart, fair, kind, all the things that make a great leader. There was a lot to admire. A lot to like.

But every time it felt like they were getting closer, he backed away. He always treated her with courtesy and respect, but that's as far as it went. He never opened up to her, or gave her any indication that he wanted more. Keith was her friend, to be sure. Someone she could trust with her life and that of every person on her planet. But it seemed like it would go no further.

As she sat in a chair, at a small table by her window and began to remove her boots, she glanced at the wall, and noticed a picture of her and Adam shaking hands at the treaty signing, hanging among others of her and various leaders and dignitaries, her parents, and the Voltron Force. She and Adam had become good friends, and especially since he'd begun giving her additional training in dogfighting. She always liked spending time with him, whether flying, at dinner, or in the lounge with the others.

Maybe that was it. Perhaps the feelings she'd been projecting toward Keith were really meant for someone else.

It was all so confusing. How did she really feel about Keith? Or Adam, for that matter? Was it a crush? Was it real? Who was she really trying to connect with? She didn't know. All she knew was that one man she'd shown interest in wasn't reciprocating, and likewise she wasn't reciprocating to someone who was showing interest in her. These questions and more swirled in her head in an unintelligible cacophony of confusion. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had a lot to straighten out.

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"Captain, we are approaching Space Station Tango Seven."

"Thank you, Mordock. Helm, reduce speed to impulse, all ahead one-half."

"Aye, sir," Curtis replied.

"Yellow alert, all hands to rescue stations," Driscoll announced. "Dr. Saladin, prepare to receive wounded."

"_Acknowledged_," said the doctor's voice.

"Visual range, sir," said Mordock.

"Onscreen," Gredar rumbled.

The image of Tango Seven filled the viewer, and it wasn't pretty. At one time, the station would have presented an interesting architectural design. Four towers clumped together and topped with landing pads formed a central hub. An outer ring of four towers was connected to each other and to the central complex by catwalks and had various antennas sticking out. Overall, the base looked like a spiny castle made of paper towel tubes.

But now, most of the catwalks were broken and collapsed, and the towers were burnt and scorched by laser fire, and sported several large holes. What once had probably been an impressive installation had been reduced to a mass of scrap.

Driscoll walked up to the science station. "Life signs?" he asked.

Mordock's hands flew over his panel as he focused every one of the ship's sensors on the base, searching for even the most minute indication of life. He looked up at the captain. "Nothing."

Driscoll turned and looked at the screen, studying the broken fortress.

"Confirmed, sir," said Jacobs. "There's nobody alive on the base."

Driscoll was speechless. He hadn't expected this. He'd expected to find survivors. Maybe in escape pods, maybe on the base, but he'd expected survivors.

He walked slowly back to his seat, then turned to the science officer. "Mordock, is there any atmosphere left?"

"Yes, sir," the Benzite replied. "There seems to be a lot of damage inside the base, but the inner regions are relatively intact."

Driscoll nodded. "T.J., you're with me. Call two guards," he said, heading for the starboard turbolift. "Dr. Saladin, Mr. Scott, report to transporter room one."

"Captain . . ." Gredar began, slowly rising from his seat.

Driscoll knew exactly what the Gorn was about to say. Protocol dictated that the first officer lead away teams, as the captain was a more valuable officer, and many had not been blessed with James Kirk's luck in surviving tough away missions. "Objection noted, Commander, but I'm leading this one. The ship is yours."

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Jacobs and the security officers held their phasers ready while the others shone their lights around the room. The away team had materialized in the middle of what appeared to be a research lab. There were a number of tables in the room, set with various equipment. There was also a large, cylindrical glass chamber in the middle of the room, connected to a bank of computers that lined one wall. Driscoll walked over to the chamber, studying it.

"Scotty, what is that?" he asked.

Scott looked over the device. "I don't know, sir. If I had to guess, I'd say it's a reaction chamber of some kind."

Driscoll nodded.

"Hm, a girl could get used to working in a place like this," said one of the guards, a young ensign named Janice MacReady.

"What is it, Ensign?" Jacobs asked.

"Gems, Commander. They're all over this table."

Jacobs walked over to the table. Indeed, a number of gemstones were arranged in trays, but they all looked to be the same. Bluish in color, and ranging from water clear and flawless to cloudy and cracked. "Sapphires?" she wondered.

"No, topaz."

"You seem to know your stones, Ensign," Driscoll commented.

"My dad's a jeweler, sir."

"Ah," Driscoll replied with a nod.

"I wonder why they'd be investing these kind of resources to study common jewels?" Saladin wondered.

"Good question, Sheik," Driscoll replied. "But one mystery at a time. "Scotty, where's their control center?"

Scott consulted his tricorder for a moment. "It should be four levels up."

"Okay, let's go."

The group left the lab and moved out into the corridor. What they found there stopped them in their tracks.

"My God!" said Scott.

There were several bodies in the corridor. Some were Alliance soldiers. Others were Doom soldiers and battle droids.

"Sheik?" Driscoll asked.

Saladin checked his tricorder, then looked at the Captain and shook his head. "They're dead, Adam."

Driscoll sighed heavily. "Okay. Let's find a turbolift or something and get to the control deck."

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After discovering that the lift system was inoperable, it took the group twenty minutes to make their way to the control center, using crawlways and access ladders. When they arrived, they found a hazy, smoke filled chamber. Several more bodies were slumped over consoles, and others were sprawled on the floor. Unlike the rest of the base, though, the control center still had power.

"T.J., secure the area. Scotty, try to access their computers and upload the data to the ship. Sheik, uh, make sure…" Driscoll trailed off, waving his hand around, indicating the chamber.

As the rest of the team set about their tasks, Driscoll tapped his combadge. "Driscoll to _Berlin_."

"_Gredar here_."

"We're in the control center. We haven't found any survivors, but from the laser burns and the bodies, it looks like there was a hell of a fight down here."

"_Lieutenant Mordock has found a set of warp trails leading away from the base, toward Doom space_."

"The raiders?"

"_Likely_."

"Okay. Stand by. We'll contact you again when we finish here. Driscoll out."

"Captain?"

"Yeah, Scotty?" Driscoll replied, looking toward the engineer, who was sitting at a console on the perimeter of the room.

"Everything's been wiped clean, except for the sensor logs. Those are still running."

Driscoll and the others crowded around the Scotsman, staring at the screen, which showed a view of themselves from behind.

"Can you access the previous logs?" Driscoll asked.

"Aye. What are you looking for?"

"I want to see the attack force."

Scott keyed in a series of commands, until he brought up an image from the tactical sensors showing the Doom fleet that had attacked the base. There were eight battleships and two slave carriers.

"Slave ships?" Jacobs wondered aloud.

Driscoll stared at the image. "This wasn't a strike. They raided this station. Whatever they were doing here, Zarkon wanted in on it. They took out the defenses, fought their way to the control room, emptied the memory banks, and I'll bet they took most of the researchers prisoner."

"Why do you say that?" MacReady asked.

"All the bodies we found were soldiers, for one. For two, if they'd killed the scientists, I doubt they'd have left that lab and its equipment intact."

Saladin nodded. "It makes sense."

"Okay people, wrap it up," Driscoll commanded, his plan of action already forming. "Driscoll to _Berlin_, lay in an intercept course on that warp trail, and stand by to engage as soon as we return."

"_Acknowledged_." Gredar replied.

Driscoll looked around as his team as they stood in a ring, ready for transport. "Driscoll to transporter room, six to beam up."

"_Standing by_," came the reply.

"Energize," Driscoll ordered. Seconds later, the control room of Tango Seven melted away, then reformed into transporter room one aboard the _Berlin_. Driscoll raced from the chamber as he ordered Curtis to engage the pursuit heading.

By the time Driscoll and Jacobs reached the bridge, the ship was already under way.

Driscoll walked over to the science officer. "Mordock, extrapolate the heading of that fleet. Where are they going?" he asked, then turned and went to his seat.

A moment later, Mordock turned and said, "According to the charts I referenced, their course will take the enemy fleet directly to Doom."

"Damn. Well, let's hope we can catch them before they get there."

The bridge crew worked silently for the next few minutes as the starship chased down the Doom slave ships and their unwilling cargo, then tension mounting with each passing second.

Suddenly, Mordock announced, "Doom fleet, dead ahead!"

"Our target?" Gredar hissed.

"Negative, this fleet is larger."

"How many?" Driscoll asked.

"Reading thirty ships. Now thirty-five…forty…fifty. Fifty vessels, sir."

"Shit! Time to intercept?"

"Two minutes," Jacobs replied.

Driscoll had a choice to make. Against fifty vessels, his ship stood little chance, even with all her advantages. The _Berlin_ was simply outgunned. But if they turned back, there'd be no chance of recovering the crew of Tango Seven.

"What's their armament?" Driscoll asked.

"Twelve battleships with standard armament," Mordock replied. "Thirty star cutters, and eight cruisers with lazon-missile load outs.

_Lazon. Great_, Driscoll thought. Lazon-based energy weapons weren't a problem, but lazon missiles were. During Operation Doolittle, the worst damage the starship sustained was done by a cruiser's lazon missile salvo, which knocked out a shield grid and caused radiation burns to a number of crewmen. It was the one weapon in the Doom arsenal that posed any serious threat to the ship.

"Sir, I have lost the slave ship's trail. The incoming fleet has obscured it," said Mordock.

That did it. Running a gauntlet and flying into the heart of Doom territory on a rescue mission was one thing. But doing that on a hunch, and hoping they were going the right way was not Driscoll's idea of fun. But he had to do _something_. He couldn't just let those people be taken like that.

"Forty seconds," Jacobs warned.

No, there was nothing more he could do. His immediate concern now was his ship and crew. The scientists were lost.

Reluctantly, he said to Curtis, "Helm, come about. Return to Arus, warp speed, all ahead full."

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Aboard the flagship of the Doom fleet, Commander Cossack watched the massive starship bank away and leap into warp.

He grinned with pride. The cowards fled before his very approach! How could they even be considered a threat when they fled so readily?

Not that he blamed them. The 27th battle group was one of Zarkon's elite units, and had led the attacks on dozens of worlds that were now subjects of Zarkon's empire.

The young commander knew he couldn't catch the ship, but he didn't have to. His orders had been to simply "dispose" of them. So, mission accomplished.

And it was another feather in his cap. Cossack was one of the rising stars of the Doom military, having personally led the conquests of four worlds before being assigned to command the 27th. If he kept this up, he'd be Lord Commander of the 5th Group in no time. Maybe even Supreme Commander of the Navy, second only to Lotor himself.

As he basked in his fantasies, he made an idle comment to a yeoman to inform command of the _Berlin_'s flight from the encounter, and to request new orders. Hopefully, his next assignment would be more challenging.


	4. Shot Down, Shot Up

**_A/N:_ **Sorry for the delays, but I've had a serious case of writer's block. I know where I want this to go, but I've been having problems figuring out how to get there. Anyway, It's back on track now, and I expect to get back to once-a-week updates. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I appreciate the feedback.

RedLion2: Sux about the F-14's. I think those are the greatest fighters since the Mustang. Definitely the best we've got out there now. As I understand it, the Navy wants to replace them with Super Hornets, but they've got less range, can carry less ordnance, are slower, and less maneuverable than the Tomcat. The only thing the F/A-18's got is a newer airframe. It doesn't make sense. Why not just make a new version of the Tomcat, the F-14E?

Anyway, on to the story.

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either World Events Productions or Paramount. What are mine are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, _Thunderwing_, as well as the story itself.  
_  
Star Tron: Escalations  
  
Chapter 4: Shot Down, Shot Up

  
  
Coran was on duty in the Control Room, reading over a report from the crews working on the reconstruction of a small town to the east. As he was finishing a section on plans to rebuild the market square, a light on his panel came on, indicating a ship entering Arusian airspace. A moment later, the IFF interrogator gave the newcomer's identity.  
  
Coran hailed the starship, and a raspy voice replied, "Berlin _here. This is Commander Gredar_."  
  
"Commander, what news do you have of Tango Seven?"  
  
"_The base has been ransacked. The survivors were taken to Doom_."  
  
"Were you able to retrieve them?"  
  
"_Negative. The Captain will be down shortly. He will give you a full report then_."  
  
"Very well, Commander. Castle of Lions, out."  
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A few minutes later, the Voltron Force was gathered in the Control Room, anxious for news from the besieged station. Coran had told them what Gredar had said, and now they hoped that Adam could give them some better news.  
  
The captain came in, wearing his customary flight suit with his leather jacket. He looked around at everyone, waiting for someone to say something. When no one did, he said simply, "We were too late."  
  
"What happened?" Coran asked.  
  
Driscoll told them about finding the base a wreck, and finding the lab and the soldiers. He talked about going to the central control room, and what they'd found, and tracking the slave ships.  
  
"Then, we were intercepted by fifty enemy ships. At the same time, we lost the slave ships' trail. There was nothing more we could do, so we returned to base."  
  
Keith looked at Adam, and anyone could see his displeasure. But he said nothing. Coran then told Adam about the fighter attack, and how Allura and Hunk had stopped the group that had tried to get through the wormhole.  
  
A few more words were exchanged, and Driscoll excused himself so he could complete his mission report to Starfleet. As he left the chamber, though, he was not alone.  
  
Keith followed the captain out of the Control Room, and asked him to come to his quarters. Once inside, Keith turned to Adam and said tensely, "So that's it? You just gave up on them?"  
  
Driscoll was taken aback. He stood there in shocked silence for a minute before asking, "What else could I have done, Keith?"  
  
"You could have followed through. You could have kept after them." Keith fixed Adam with a hard stare. He was serious.  
  
"Through a flak barrage of missiles and lasers?" Driscoll asked skeptically.  
  
"You had the speed."  
  
Driscoll snorted. "Okay, all right. I'll bite. So we blow through, and if we're still in one piece, and in warp, they eat our dust. Great. Now how do we track them down without a warp trail to follow?"  
  
"You knew their heading. You could have figured out where they were going."  
  
"And who's to say they didn't dogleg off somewhere? How do we know they held that course, huh? We don't. Meanwhile, we're flying a steady course straight into Zarkon's toughest defenses. Is that what we should have done, Commander?" Adam spat the last word. He didn't like pulling rank, but he liked having people question his decisions, the way Keith was, even less. And it set him off. Especially considering that Keith had never commanded a starship himself, and had no right whatsoever to question him in the first place.  
  
"You should have done something!"  
  
"We did! Keith, the distress call was eleven hours old when we got it for Christ's sake! It'd have taken the Lions two days to get there. Would you have charged on even that far after flying for two days straight? I don't think so."  
  
"What I would have done is irrelevant. I wasn't there." And even as he said it, he knew he'd just lost the argument.  
  
"Exactly. You weren't there. You don't know what happened. So why the hell are you questioning me like this? What's going on?"  
  
"Because I think you could have saved those scientists."  
  
"Yeah, Keith, maybe we could have. It's a possibility. But I can't risk my ship and 450 crewmen on a maybe. I won't do that. We were outnumbered, outgunned, and had lost our only lead. It was a bad situation, and could only get worse."  
  
The two leaders stood there silently, looking at each other for several, tense seconds. "Keith, what's really going on? What were they doing at Tango Seven? Why are those scientists so important?"  
  
"I don't know. At least, not for sure. I've heard rumors, second-hand information."  
  
"Like?"  
  
Keith shook his head. "I can't tell you. Not yet. Because if I'm right, it's classified beyond my clearance."  
  
Adam nodded. "That big?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So maybe we did drop the ball," Adam wondered aloud.  
  
"No, I'm sorry I said that. I never meant to question your decision, but I need to know that they were beyond our help."  
  
"Keith, I don't know for sure," Adam replied with a shrug. "But at that time, the odds didn't justify the risk. If I'd had a trail, or had them on sensors, I'd have tried. But the way things were," he shook his head. "No."  
  
"All right. Thanks, Adam. I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."  
  
Driscoll nodded. "Okay." He turned and left the room, headed for his own. The Berlin was in station keeping at the wormhole, and he didn't feel like flying back tonight. Also, he wanted to be close if Keith found out anything about Tango Seven. There was something odd about that base. He'd known that the moment he'd materialized in that lab, and the exchange with Keith only confirmed his suspicions. Something weird was happening there, and whatever that was, it was big.  
  
But that wasn't all. Keith's attitude about the issue hadn't been what Adam had come to expect. Something was wrong. If he'd just wanted to confirm Driscoll's thoughts during the mission, he'd have simply asked. He'd have been firm, definitely, but he'd been downright hostile. Keith had attacked him, and the captain had no idea why. What could disgruntle Keith - the acknowledged "Colonel Cool" of the team – so much that he'd interrogate Adam so harshly? The captain pondered the question as he sat down to write his report.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The next morning, Driscoll awoke to realize he'd fallen asleep at his desk. He looked around his room in the castle, seeing his things scattered around where he'd dropped them. Looking down, he saw the half-written report to Starfleet. The small clock in the corner of the PADD read 0447.  
  
_Crap_! _Quarter to five_! he thought. He got up and stretched, then gathered his flying gear and headed to the castle's hangar bay to collect his fighter.  
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Keith looked around at his instruments as the rest of the Force formed up around him. _Lance, Hunk, Allura, Pidge, good. All here_, he thought. But no, they were still one short. As the Lions headed for the target range in the desert, Keith scanned the sky high above. Finally, between the intermittent clouds, he saw what he was looking for. A single, white contrail cutting across the sky like an arrow.  
  
"Okay, Adam. Form up."  
  
"Good morning to you, too, boss!" Driscoll replied sarcastically. He had taken to calling Keith "boss" due to the no-nonsense attitude he had for command. In the air, he was the boss, and everyone knew it. "Gee-ron-ee- mo!" the captain said as the old warbird dove and formed up on Allura's wing.  
  
Once they reached the target range, the Force broke up and began practicing their attack maneuvers. When hitting ground targets or larger ships, it was often advantageous to use single-unit tactics, rather than breaking into pairs, which was better for a fighter battle.  
  
Everyone made practice runs against various mock-ups of typical Doom targets, using electronic scoring rather than live ammunition to track hits and assess damage. This was due to several factors, but foremost was lack of resources. There was a shortage of people to maintain the range and replace destroyed targets. Most resources were committed to rebuilding towns, harbors, and spaceports.  
  
Hunk swooped in low and landed, charging a set of dummy tanks and hitting them with a simulated missile barrage.  
  
"Nice one, Hunk," said Adam. "But you didn't get low enough." _Thunderwing_ zoomed in, skimming so close to the ground that the propeller threw up a cloud of sand and dust behind the fighter. Racing toward the targets at three-quarters the speed of sound, Driscoll lined up his gunsight and pulled the trigger, spraying the targets with light beams.  
  
"Ha! I've got you both beat!" said Lance. Red Lion dove at the targets, pulling up just above the ground and incinerating the three dummy tanks with its flamethrower.  
  
"Lance!" said Keith. "What part of 'simulated fire' do you not understand?"  
  
"I think it's the 'simulated' part," Lance replied with a devilish grin.  
  
"Well, let me explain . . ."  
  
Just then, Pidge happened to glance at his sensor display, and didn't like what he saw. "Uh, Keith, the explanations are going to have to wait. We've got company."  
  
Keith looked up as twenty Doom fighters dove out of the sun. "Everybody up! Get up higher!" He knew that if the fighters could keep the Lions low, they'd have an advantage. He faintly heard rock music playing on the open intercom channel, and knew at least one of them was taking action.  
  
The Lions raced upward, shooting straight through the enemy formation, four of which fell prey to the robotic cats.  
  
The remaining fighters came around and shot upwards as the Lions came down at them. Then the groups merged, and the furball began.  
  
Lance saw one dead ahead of him. "Laser fangs!" he announced, and Red Lion bit down on the fighter, tearing away a chunk of the fuselage. "Scratch one," he announced.  
  
"Lance, behind you!"  
  
Lance glanced at his sensors and saw five Doom fighters on his tail. "Holy cats!" he exclaimed, guiding Red Lion into a loop. At the top, he jumped aside and dove on his pursuers, destroying two more.  
  
Meanwhile, both Hunk and Pidge were trying to dislodge Stingers that had latched onto their tails. Hunk came around on Pidge's attackers and was about to fire when an alarm rang out, warning him of an incoming missile. Hunk waited until the last second, then Yellow Lion leapt upward as the missile shot past, locked onto one of the fighters on Pidge's tail, and destroyed it. The other broke off with Hunk in pursuit. With his tail clear, Pidge circled around to help Hunk, who still had two fighters behind him.  
  
"I've got the leader, Pidge," said Keith.  
  
"Right," Pidge replied.  
  
Black Lion came up under the leader and dispatched it with a slash of its electro-claws, while Pidge used Green Lion's tail laser to get the other.  
  
Coming out of an Immelmann turn, Discoll looked around. There were Lions and Stingers everywhere. Unfortunately, Driscoll had been able to do little more than evade attacks, and had not once made an attack himself. Glancing down and to the left, he watched as Blue Lion started an attack on a Doom fighter. But then he saw something else that Allura didn't. He saw a second fighter going after Blue Lion. It was a classic trap.  
  
"Allura! Break right and climb!" he warned as he hauled his plane over into a dove. Allura tried to lose her attacker, but the fighter stayed on her tail. Adam had to act fast. Pushing the throttle to the wire, he raced in, phasers blazing. He saw hits on the fuselage and left stabilizer, and then the fighter erupted in flames.  
  
Suddenly, _Thunderwing_ lurched violently as an explosion boomed in the cockpit. Driscoll felt a searing pain in his shoulder as the fighter cartwheeled into a dive. His rock music cut off as alarms blared and smoke filled the cockpit.  
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Allura was coming out of her turn as she heard Adam yell, "I'm hit!" She looked over and watched in horror as _Thunderwing_ fell toward the ground trailing smoke, with a Doom fighter close behind.  
  
Blue Lion made a jump-turn and went after the fighter. As it closed on _Thunderwing_, she locked onto it. "Ion darts!" she called, the weapon appearing on Blue Lion's shoulder and firing. The enemy fighter dropped away, burning.  
  
But _Thunderwing_ kept going down.  
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His fighter diving at over 500 miles per hour, Adam closed the throttle and hauled back on the stick with both hands, gritting his teeth against the pain. He watched the altitude tick away as the altimeter unwound. 21,000...19,000...17,000.  
  
"Adam, get out of there!" Allura yelled.  
  
"Jump, man, jump!" said Lance.  
  
Driscoll glanced from the altimeter to the red canopy release lever and back. If he was going to bail out, he only had a few more seconds to do it. _Come on, baby, pull out. Pull out_! He prayed.  
  
Then, as he passed 8,000 feet, _Thunderwing_ began to level out. Finally, at 2,600 feet, Driscoll was able to level off. He added power and adjusted his trim to stay aloft, then glanced at his damage indicator, projected on the right panel of the windscreen. On the fighter's silhouette, a red dot was blinking on the side of the plane, just aft of his seat, and a text message gave details. There was a hole in the fuselage, the starboard shields were out, and one of the main EPS couplings had been destroyed. On top of that, he was wounded. He didn't know how bad, but it wasn't minor, considering he could feel something scraping against his shoulder blade as he moved the stick.  
  
"Adam, are you all right? Come in." Keith called.  
  
"Yeah, Keith, I'm okay, but I'm shot up pretty bad. Returning to the ship." He pushed his drive selector, which on a normal Mustang would be the mixture control lever, to "impulse". But instead of the holographic interfaces activating and his prop shutting down and feathering as the impulse drive came online, all he got was a message from the computer. "Warning, impulse drive not available. Unable to initialize."  
  
_Well, so much for that_, he thought.  
  
Setting course for the Castle of Lions, he looked around, but he was alone in the sky with nothing but a trailing plume of smoke for company. Then, as he vented the smoke from the cockpit, he saw something coming up behind him. He prepared to take evasive action and call a mayday, when he heard Allura's voice say, "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'll live." I hope, he added mentally. "What about the Doomies?"  
  
"Gone. Keith and the boys took care of the last of them."  
  
"Weren't you there?"  
  
"No. I was following you. Never leave your wingman, remember?"  
  
Driscoll smiled. "Yeah. I remember. Thanks."  
  
Allura smiled back. "I'll stay with you until you land."  
  
"Thanks, Allura."  
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Ten minutes later, _Thunderwing_ set down on the main road leading to the castle. Driscoll taxied up to the palace, then cut his engine as the other members of the Force returned their Lions to their hiding places.  
  
Adam rolled back the canopy, and as he unstrapped himself, he heard someone climb onto the wing. "Don't move, Captain."  
  
He looked up at who had spoken, and was surprised to see Dr. Saladin beside him, waving his tricorder over him. "I can get out of my own damn cockpit, Sheik," he replied. He started to get up, and suddenly felt light-headed. "Maybe not," he mumbled, as he fell back into the plane, unconscious. 


	5. Mechanics and Mechanations

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either the NFL, Paramount or World Events Productions. What are mine are the crew of the Berlin (except Mordock and Scotty) and the fighter _Thunderwin_g, as well as the story itself.  
  
And thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially RL2 and Crash77A. Every Ace needs a few good wingmen. Thanks guys.  
_  
Star Tron: Escalations  
  
Chapter 5: Mechanics and Mechanations  
  
The Voltron Force waited in the corridor outside the _Berlin_'s sickbay while Dr. Saladin treated Captain Driscoll. Keith had notified the ship of Adam's mishap, and they had immediately moved from the wormhole to Arus. It proved to be a very good thing, as the captain lost consciousness just after landing.  
  
A few minutes later, Dr. Saladin called them in. Commander Gredar arrived a moment later. Looking around, they saw Adam lying on a biobed near the back of the room.  
  
"What's the prognosis, Doc?" Keith asked.  
  
"He sustained a shrapnel wound in his shoulder, and lost a lot of blood flying back to the palace. I am going to keep him here for a day, and then I shall release him."  
  
"When will he return to duty?" Gredar asked.  
  
"He should be fit for duty tomorrow, but no flying."  
  
"No flying?" Keith asked.  
  
"He is grounded for three days," Saladin said with a nod. "After that, I will reexamine him, and if he is ready, he can return to flight duty with you."  
  
Keith scowled. Not good. But there was nothing to be done. If Saladin said that Adam couldn't fly, that was it.  
  
"Okay. Well, maybe we should get back then," said Lance. "There's nothing we can do." He spoke more to bring Keith out of his reverie than anything else. Left to his own devices, Keith's train of though could last for hours.  
  
"Yeah. Good idea, Lance," said Keith.  
  
"You'll call us when he's up?" Allura asked.  
  
"Of course, Your Highness," Saladin replied.  
  
"Thank you," said Allura. The group filed out of sickbay, and Gredar escorted them to the transporter room.

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That afternoon, Hunk and Pidge went about repairing the damage the Lions had sustained. Green Lion had suffered some laser burns and blown circuits, and Red Lion had taken a few missile hits. Nothing significant. Still, it would take them most of the day to repair, given the size and complexity of the Lions, which they were just beginning to truly understand.  
  
Near the Lions, on the other side of the bay, sat _Thunderwing_, crippled, a ragged, charred hole in the starboard side of her fuselage, the pilot's seat stained with blood. And so she would remain for three more days, until Adam could see to her.  
  
The two technicians were just finishing Red Lion when Keith walked in. The commander looked around, then asked, "Done with the repairs?"  
  
"Yep. All set," said Hunk. "I was about to call Lance and have him take Red back to the volcano."  
  
Keith nodded, looking over the Lions approvingly. Finally, his gaze settled upon the gelded Mustang. "What about that?"  
  
Hunk looked at the fighter. "_Thunderwing_? I don't know. It looks pretty bad, but I'm sure Adam can handle it."  
  
"In three days."  
  
"Yeah, if Dr. Saladin lets him off then," said Pidge.  
  
Keith realized that Pidge had a good point. Adam probably wouldn't be up to working on the plane for three days, until his shoulder healed fully. And judging by the damage, there was probably at least two days work to be done. That would mean that _Thunderwing_ would be out of action for at least a full week. Unacceptable.  
  
"Hunk, do you think you could do something with it?" Keith asked.  
  
Hunk looked at Keith skeptically. "Well, if you remember, the last time I tried I got slugged for my trouble."  
  
"Hunk, I just want to know if you can fix the plane."  
  
The three pilots looked over the plane, particularly the damaged area. Hunk sighed and shook his head. "I can patch it up, but I can't do anything else with it without the specs, or at least some parts."  
  
Keith nodded. "Hunk, I want you and Pidge to work on Thunderwing. We can't wait for Adam to do it all."  
  
Pidge and Hunk nodded. "Right, Keith," said Pidge. "We'll do what we can."  
  
"We'll get on it first thing tomorrow."

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The next morning, Lion practice was short as the team rehearsed aerial combat maneuvers. The surprise attack the day before had put them all on edge, and Keith was determined not to let it happen again. The Force had become complacent, always expecting the starship above to detect raids in time for them to assemble a defense. In response, Doom ships had approached Arus on less direct routes, keeping something between themselves and the _Berlin_ as much as possible. So Keith had decided to begin stressing vigilance in the air, and heightened attentiveness to the sensors.  
  
But practice went smoothly, with no unpleasant surprises. After breakfast, the team split up. Allura went to a meeting with Coran and some politicians from nearby towns, Keith had some reports to send to the Garrison, Lance was on watch, and Pidge and Hunk had an injured bird to heal.  
  
The project started smoothly enough. It wasn't difficult to remove the damaged panels and make new ones, or to clean the fabric on the pilot's seat. Once that was done, they started on the really tough work.  
  
When _Thunderwing_ was hit, a power coupling ruptured and overloaded a control panel, causing it to blow shrapnel all around the back of the cockpit, tearing up the jump seat and the rear cockpit gear. Adam had been very lucky. If not for the armor plate behind his seat, he probably would have been killed.  
  
It took them almost two hours to figure out how to remove the jumpseat, oxygen gear, and other damaged components from the back of the cockpit. Hunk was just finishing up removing the last of the damaged parts when he heard a voice behind him say, "What'd I tell you about working on my plane?"  
  
Hunk stopped working and turned around, ready to block a punch. Adam stood there behind him, wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue Buffalo Bills T- shirt. His right arm was in a sling, and in his left, he held a PADD. "Listen, Adam, Keith said..."  
  
"I know, Hunk. Keith told me all about it. I'm not going to hit you. And I'm sorry about the last time. I lost my cool. Anyway, I appreciate the help right now." He nodded down to his arm. "I'm not exactly in the best shape to be working on her myself."  
  
"I'll say," said Pidge, looking over the cockpit at the two from the far side of the plane.  
  
"But I do intend to look over your shoulders while you do this," Adam added. "And Keith also said you'd need these," he held up the PADD. "These are all the specs on _Thunderwing_. Complete design history, armament and maintenance manuals, the whole enchilada." He held it out to Hunk. "Thought it'd help you out."  
  
Hunk took it and looked it over, letting out an appreciative whistle. "'Whole enchilada' is right. I could build one of these with this information."  
  
"Yeah, you could. So don't let it out of your sight. If Zarkon's boys got their hands on this, you'd be fighting Mustangs instead of Stingers."  
  
"And that sure wouldn't be a good thing," said Pidge.  
  
"Right. So, keep it to yourselves."  
  
"Will do, Captain," said Hunk.  
  
Adam nodded. "Okay, so where are we?"  
  
Hunk brought Adam up to speed on what they'd done, answering a few questions that the captain had for them, and then the three men set to work rebuilding the fighter's rear cockpit.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
_First Officer's Log, stardate 51379.7: With the Captain on medical leave, I have assumed temporary command of the Berlin. For the time being, we will remain in orbit of Arus, and monitor the wormhole from out current position. Recent communications from Starfleet indicate that the first parts of our base station will be arriving in the next few weeks_.  
  
Gredar deactivated the log recording and settled back in his chair. As usual, his entry was short, specific and to the point. He, like most Gorn, did not mince words. The bridge, usually a hub of activity, was almost deserted. Only tactical, helm, and ops were manned.  
  
With so few people on the bridge, it was very quiet, as it should be. When the Captain was on duty, there was a constant, low buzz of conversation. It didn't seem to affect performance at all, and indeed it was the Captain who instigated some of it, but still, the Gorn didn't approve. The bridge was not a place for socialization. But then again, these humans were a strangely gregarious species. It was just another part of human nature he did not understand.  
  
But he was beginning to. He had to, otherwise he'd never get any farther. Unlike some other exchange officers, he had not come to Starfleet looking to improve himself of broaden his horizons. It was his last option, other than face a disgraceful fall from favor.  
  
At first, he hated it, and nearly went home. But then, his reputation grew, and he became known for his efficiency and skill, and opportunities opened for him. There had been struggles, certainly, but he overcame them. Starfleet became his life, like the Royal Gorn Navy had been before.  
  
His train of thought was interrupted by the lieutenant at tactical. "Commander?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm detecting some activity at the wormhole."  
  
Gredar rose from his seat. "Visual," he rasped. On the screen, an image of the wormhole appeared as it bloomed open, and a small ship came through.  
  
"Doom fighter, sir," the lieutenant reported.  
  
"Yellow alert. Mr. Curtis, pursue."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
The starship surged forward as amber lights flashed on across the bridge. As she gained on the lone fighter, the rest of the senior staff trickled in and took their posts.  
  
"Order them to surrender," said Gredar.  
  
"Aye, sir," Jacobs replied, sending the ultimatum.  
  
Aboard the Doom fighter, the pilot heard the Berlin's demands and scoffed. They don't know they've already lost, he thought. His mission was nearly complete. All he had to do was make one final transmission.  
  
"Transmission from the fighter, sir. Unable to intercept," Singh reported.  
  
"Stand-by phasers," said Gredar.  
  
The starship closed in on the fighter, which had accelerated to its maximum speed, trying to escape. But it was no match for the power of the massive starship.  
  
"Audio," Gredar commanded.  
  
Jacobs punched a series of commands into her board to tie into the fighter's comm system. "Go ahead, sir."  
  
"This is your final warning," said Gredar. "Surrender immediately, or you will be destroyed."  
  
There was no response from the Doom fighter. Instead, it wheeled around and zoomed straight at the starship, weapons blazing.  
  
"Fire," said Gredar.  
  
A single, ruby red beam lanced out from the starship, catching the fighter head-on and destroying it in a fiery cascade. With the enemy gone, Gredar ordered the alert cancelled, and the ship turned back for Arus. But what had the ship transmitted? He didn't know, but his instincts told him that that transmission was not to be ignored.  
  
The Gorn rose from his seat and headed for the starboard turbolift. He needed to share this with the Captain.


	6. An Answer At Last

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either Paramount or World Events Productions. What I do own are the crew of the_ Berlin _(except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter,_ Thunderwing_, as well as the story itself.  
_  
**_This one's proving tougher to write than I thought, but I'll keep posting as often as I can. Thanks again to everyone who read and reviewed_.**

Star Tron: Escalations  
  
Chapter 6: An Answer At Last  
  
  
King Zarkon reviewed the report he'd just received with satisfaction. The scouting mission he'd sent into Federation space had managed to obtain excellent information on the location of several large Starfleet installations. The fortunes seemed to be favoring him.  
  
Obtaining the data and scientists from the Alliance outpost had been critical to his plans. Now, with that accomplished, it was only a matter of time before he would be ready to strike. But now, patience was necessary. Everything would have to be perfect before he could act.  
  
He looked up as Lotor entered the chamber. "You sent for me, Father?" the Prince asked.  
  
"I did. How long has it been since we launched a robeast attack on Arus?"  
  
"A little over a week, Father," said Lotor.  
  
Zarkon nodded. "And as I recall, you met with a dismal failure."  
  
Lotor choked back a stunned outburst. Yes, his last robeast attack had failed, but he thought Zarkon had moved on, like in all his previous setbacks. Why was he bringing it up again? Did his father hate him so much? Or had he simply run out of things to berate him about?  
  
Before he could say anything, Zarkon continued. "It would seem that they are due for another attack. Lotor, I want you to increase the frequency of your attacks."  
  
Lotor was perplexed. "Very well, Father, but do you really think that will work?"  
  
"You have a better suggestion?" Zarkon challenged. When Lotor didn't reply, he said, "As I expected. Now leave me."  
  
Lotor snapped to attention and pivoted on his heel, striding from the room, and muttering under his breath.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Captain Driscoll sat at a table in the _Brauhoff_ Lounge, located on deck fifteen on the Berlin, sipping a tall, frosty glass of iced tea. The _Brauhoff_ was a gathering place of sorts on the starship, where everyone could let their hair down. Ranks were checked at the door, as were all concerns for duty and responsibility. And after the tension of the past few days, it was exactly what the young captain needed.  
  
He had been working on his plane with the help of Hunk and Pidge when Gredar had called and asked him to return to the ship. That's when he found out about the Doom fighter and its mysterious message.  
  
In his mind, there was only one thing it could have been. It was transmitting intelligence data. The fighter had been on a recon mission, and the data it had gathered was now well on it's way to Zarkon.  
  
For now, he'd ordered that the ship take position near the wormhole and stay there. If Zarkon had intelligence on the location of Starfleet installations, it stood to reason that an attack could come at any time. He'd sworn up one side and down the other to Nechayev that the _Berlin_ could hold the wormhole, and he'd be damned if he let Zarkon or his sleaze of a son, Lotor make a liar out of him.  
  
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even see Lieutenant Curtis walk up until the young man asked, "This seat taken, Skipper?"  
  
Driscoll looked up. "Oh, hi, Mike. No, not at all. Please," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "And we're off duty. You can call me 'Adam'."  
  
Curtis set down his drink and seated himself. "So how's the war wound?" the helmsman asked, nodding to Driscoll's sling-cradled arm.  
  
"Feels okay. Can't wait for the Sheik to clear me for flight ops again," Driscoll replied.  
  
"You just got your shoulder shot off, and you're still itching for combat? Man, that's incredible."  
  
Driscoll scoffed. "Nah. I'm just too dumb to take a hint."  
  
Curtis chuckled. "You said it, Adam, not me."  
  
"Yeah, well, see that you don't, or you'll be my new strafing practice target, Mike," Adam said jokingly.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Driscoll smiled and drained his drink. "What about you, Mike? Anything you were ever too dumb to take a hint on?"  
  
"Me? Well..." Curtis thought a moment. "Actually, yeah. There was this one time at the Academy, me and my roomie, Shane McInnis, were going to enter a boat race down in Baja over spring break. So, to practice, we took our boat, well, it was his boat, out on the bay. One time a storm was kicking up, but we thought we could finish our run and get in before it hit. Lordy me, were we wrong!"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The wind just changed direction real suddenly, and blew the boat to the side. It rocked so hard, it threw me right into the water. So there I am, in the water, Shane's tryin' to get the boat under control and come back for me, and the waves are kicking up, it's just crazy.  
  
"Well, long story short, Shane managed to pick me up, and we got back to the dock, and banged up the boat pretty good to boot."  
  
"But you went to the race, right?"  
  
"Yep. And we came in dead last."  
  
Driscoll laughed. "Yeah, that's definitely a hint not taken."  
  
"Sure enough!"  
  
"Well, lemme tell ya somethin', Mike," Driscoll began. Suddenly, his badge chirped. "_Jacobs to Driscoll_."  
  
"Aw, dammit," Driscoll griped. He tapped the offending metal shard. "Go ahead."  
  
"_Sir, Coran just called up. He'd like to see you at the Castle of Lions_."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"_Don't know, sir_."  
  
Driscoll sighed heavily. "Okay, T.J. I'll have someone take me in a shuttle. We'll keep the ship here."  
  
"_Aye, sir. Jacobs out_."  
  
Driscoll slouched back in his chair. Well, he was going to go back and check on Hunk and Pidge anyway. "Wanna go for a ride, Mike?"  
  
"Sure," Curtis replied. The two officers got up and headed for the shuttle bay, as Curtis called for the _Scarecrow_ to be prepared for launch.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
It was a short flight from the _Berlin_ to Arus, and the shuttle was immediately granted landing clearance. Within moments of touching down in the castle's hangar bay, the two officers walked into the Control Room.  
  
"About time you got here," said Lance. "Something happen to your leg, too?"  
  
Driscoll glared at the grinning Red Lion pilot. "Keep it up, smartass."  
  
"Oh, don't worry. I will."  
  
"Children," Keith chided, "Can we get down to business?"  
  
"Walked right into that, didn't I, Mike?" Driscoll asked.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"So why are we here?" Driscoll asked.  
  
"After you told us what you found at Tango Seven, I asked Coran to do some research," Keith explained.  
  
"And he's got something?" Curtis asked.  
  
"Yes, I do," Coran replied. "We knew that Space Station Tango Seven was a research station, and the boarding party from the _Berlin_ found out that their research had something to do with minerals.  
  
"According to the information I found, the facility was conducting research on ionized minerals. Specifically, the potential military applications for ionized minerals. Recently, they made a breakthrough with topaz, and have been focusing on that mineral."  
  
"Well, that explains Zarkon's interest," said Pidge.  
  
"Indeed," said Coran.  
  
"But what about the topaz makes it so special?" Allura asked.  
  
"According to the reports on file from Tango Seven, ionized topaz can affect DNA replication during cellular mitosis. Specifically, it causes aberrant recombinations which can alter the genome."  
  
"Say what?" Hunk asked.  
  
"It's a mutagen, Hunk," Pidge explained.  
  
"Precisely," said Coran.  
  
"So it's a biological weapon," said Lance.  
  
Adam frowned in confusion. "Wait a second. Aren't biological weapons banned in the Alliance?"  
  
"Yes, they are," said Keith. "The Alliance has abandoned all biological weapons research, and has signed several treaties which prohibits their development or use."  
  
"Wait, so this was illegal research?" Curtis asked.  
  
"It's hard to say. The report on the topaz was filed just two days before the attack. It may simply have been a chance discovery that they had no intention of pursuing," Coran said.  
  
"Yeah, that's true," said Driscoll.  
  
"But the point is, Zarkon has a new weapon," said Keith. "So we have to find a way to counter it."  
  
"And that's where you come in, Captain," said Coran.  
  
"What can I do?"  
  
"Your ship is far better equipped to analyze this data and develop countermeasures than anything we have here on Arus," said Coran.  
  
"Well, not as well equipped as we were," said Driscoll.  
  
"The _Berlin_ is still our best shot," said Keith.  
  
Driscoll nodded. "I'll get my guys on it."  
  
"Thank you," said Coran. "I'll forward the data to the ship."  
  
"Right. Then I guess I'd better get up there and get this going."  
  
Keith nodded. "If there's anything your people need, have them contact us."  
  
"Will do," said Driscolll. He and Curtis then left the chamber, and were soon speeding back to the _Berlin_.


	7. Cleared and Questioned

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either Paramount or World Events Productions. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

_Thanks for the reviews, folks, I really appreciate them. And Crash, you just go ahead and keep guessing as much as you want. Some of those guesses have given me ideas._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 7: Cleared and Questioned

The next two days passed uneventfully for the Voltron Force and their Federation allies. While the crew of the _Berlin_ worked on a way to defend against the effects of the ionized topaz, the Voltron Force watched for any signs of an imminent attack, ever ready to fly into action.

Two days after Coran delivered the information on Tango Seven's research, Princess Allura awoke shortly before dawn and began to get ready for practice. Just as she finished combing out her hair, her communicator went off. She reached over to her dresser and answered it. "Allura here."

"_Princess, practice is cancelled this morning_," said Keith's voice.

Allura was confused. "Why?"

"_I have to call in to Graham this morning. We'll have practice this evening. We could use some work on our night flying anyway_."

Allura nodded to herself. "Understood, Keith," she replied.

"_Would you please tell Hunk_? _He's the only one I haven't seen_."

"Sure, Keith."

"_Thanks. Keith out_."

Allura finished up and left her room. As she walked down the corridor, she ran into Pidge. "Hi, Pidge."

"Good morning, Princess," the boy replied. "How about that, huh? No practice."

"Yeah, it's nice to get a morning off," she said. "Have you seen Hunk?"

"Uh, last I knew, he was heading down to the repair bay."

"Thanks, Pidge," said Allura. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Okay. See you later, Princess."

Allura made her way to the repair bay. Walking through the heavy double-doors, she found the chamber deserted. The equipment was stored neatly along the walls, and the only other thing in the bay was the P-51 standing near the outer doors.

She approached the right side of the plane, running her hand along the flap as she examined the fuselage. There was no evidence of the damage she'd sustained. The skin of the plane was unblemished, the paint pristine.

Climbing up on the wing, she looked into the open cockpit, and could see no sign of damage there, either.

"Enjoying the view?"

Allura let out a startled yelp and almost fell off the wing. Turning around, she saw Captain Driscoll staring up at her. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," Adam replied. But the grin on his face told her that he wasn't all that sorry.

"It's all right." As she looked at him, she realized that he wasn't wearing the sling. "Did Dr. Saladin clear you for duty?"

"Yep. About an hour ago." He climbed up on the wing next to her and leaned into the cockpit, adjusting some of the controls. "I can't wait to get up."

"Keith cancelled practice," Allura told him.

"Yeah, I know. Hunk told me. But Lance told him, so I wasn't sure it was for real. You know how Lance is with his practical jokes. But anyway, I'm still going up."

"Oh, I see."

Adam paused a moment, then looked at her. "What do you see?" he asked, a wry smile on his face.

_He's playing with me_, Allura realized. _Okay, fine._ She spoke in a confident, matter-of-fact tone. "Well, I just thought that since there was no practice..."

"That I'd skip my morning flight?" Adam finished. "No way in hell. I mean, today I have to test my systems, but even if I didn't, I'd still go up."

Allura nodded. She watched Adam as he continued his preflight checks. "You really love to fly, don't you?"

He looked at her again. "Yeah, I do." He jumped down and began walking around the plane, doing a visual inspection. Allura followed. "There's just something about flying, something almost spiritual," he said. "Different pilots'll tell you different things, but to me, there's just one word that describes it. Freedom."

He stopped and turned, leaning on the left wing tip. Speaking softly, he said, "When I'm up there in the morning, just before dawn, I'll be cruising along at 40,000 feet, skimming the cloud tops. Then, the sky lightens, and the sun bursts out over the clouds, and it's like flying through a sea of gold." he paused and looked at Allura. "And being all alone up there, with nothing but the roar of the engine in your ears and the rising sun on your face, I tell ya, there's no other feeling in the world like it. Your destiny awaits only a twist of the stick or a nudge on the throttle. That's what flying's all about, Allura. That's freedom."

Allura stood there a moment, unsure of how to respond. The passion in Adam's words spoke to her as much as the words themselves. For her, flying had always been important. She flew to defend her people and her planet, and she was proud of that. Indeed, she loved flying, but she had never seen it as Adam had. But then, she seldom had the chance to fly for pleasure, as Adam did.

"And that's why I'm up there every morning," said Driscoll. "If I only flew combat, that's all flying would be to me, a way to fight. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the contest, but there's so much more to flying, and I would never want to lose track of that."

After a moment, Allura said, "Wow. I never realized it meant that much to you."

Adam smiled. "Well, usually, I prefer that people think I'm just getting some extra practice. And sometimes, that's all it is. But during my pre-practice flights, it's all about the experience."

Allura nodded. "I'll have to try that some time."

Adam was quiet a moment, then said, "How about now?"

"What do you mean?"

The Mustang pilot chuckled. "Well, practice is cancelled this morning, I'm still going up, and there _are_ two seats in this bird."

Allura beamed. "Yeah, I'd love to," she said.

"Okay. Well, go get your flight suit and meet me back here. I'm taking off in fifteen minutes, with or without you."

Allura nodded. "Right," she said, already walking toward the door. Adam set about completing his pre-flight checks.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keith watched on a small monitor as _Thunderwing _taxied out of the repair bay and took to the air. Once the Mustang was safely away, he opened the communication channel to Space Marshal Graham.

Graham regarded Keith a moment before speaking. "Commander. I've read the report you sent me about Tango Seven. I can't say I'm pleased."

"I understand, sir, but Captain Driscoll assured me that he did all he could."

"I'm sure. However, I think it may have been better if you had led the Lions on that mission. Especially now that it seems Doom was able to sneak a recon flight through your defenses."

"But, sir..."

Graham held up his hand. "No, Keith. I know you made the best decision you could. I'm not criticizing you. Given the information you had, it was a better idea for the _Berlin_ to go. However, because the _Berlin_ was involved, there may be an issue we need to address."

"What's that, sir?"

"If Captain Driscoll sent a report on Tango Seven's research to the Federation, it might cause problems for our alliance with them. As I'm sure you know, they have banned biological weapons, like we have. So if they think we're using these weapons, especially in violation of our own treaties, they might start having second thoughts about backing us against Lotor."

"Marshal Graham, _was _Tango Seven assigned to research biological weapons?" Keith asked. That was the whole question at the heart of the matter, and he felt that it was time the truth was known, whatever it was.

"No, Keith, of course not. They were only assigned to research various mineral compounds and report their discoveries."

"Then how did Doom know to attack them?"

"That's an excellent question. And one I intend to get the answer to as soon as possible. I've ordered the cruisers _Farad_ and _Mistral_ to secure the base and conduct an investigation. Obviously, though, anything we report on Tango Seven's research will be looked at skeptically by the Federation."

"And that's the prime concern," Keith commented.

"In this situation, yes. The Senate wants to do everything possible to ensure that relations between the Alliance and the Federation do not degrade. That's why they sent a communication to Starfleet Headquarters, inviting the _Berlin_ to accompany our ships. Hopefully, this will all smooth out once the Federation people see for themselves that the discovery of topaz's mutagenic properties was accidental."

"Yes, sir."

"Keith, I can't fault you for thinking of the station's crew first. You did the right thing, asking the _Berlin_ to go. If there had been any survivors, or if the _Berlin _had caught the slave ship, there would be no problem now. But from here on, I am ordering you not to involve the _Berlin_ in these situations when there is a risk that classified material may be compromised."

Keith stiffened at the obvious reprimand, but said nothing but a crisp, "Understood, sir."

Graham nodded. "Very good. I'll keep you posted on the situation."

"Thank you, sir."

"Graham out."

The screen went blank, and Keith let out a deep sight of frustration. Now Graham was criticizing his command ability. He had made a call that had to be made. Who cared if their allies found some classified information? And wasn't he even concerned that Doom now knew just as much, if not more, than the Federation?

He felt like hitting something. Here Graham was, rebuking him for something beyond his control, but where was he when the robeasts came? Where was he when schools and hospitals had to be rebuilt? The fact was, Arus and the Voltron Force had already received more help from the Federation than they ever had from the Alliance. The Voltron Force was very nearly single-handedly defending the Alliance from Zarkon's forces, but Graham didn't seem to notice that.

Disgusted and frustrated, Keith left the chamber, heading for his room. He'd only been up for an hour, and this already wasn't his day.

No sooner had he slumped into the chair behind his desk, preparing to catch up on his paperwork, than the castle's alarms rang out.

Sprinting back to the Control Room, he found Coran and the others already there. All except Allura.

"Where's the Princess?" Keith asked.

"The Princess is missing," said Coran.


	8. First Test

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by World Events Productions, Paramount, or anyone else. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 8: First Test

_Thunderwing_ skimmed along the top of an intermittent cloud deck, 27,000 feet above the surface of Arus. The pre-dawn twilight afforded just enough light to see the clouds sailing by just outside the cockpit.

Looking out, Allura was enjoying the view. She was used to Blue Lion's boxy, cockpit, surrounded by instruments and controls. But this was very different, almost like sitting on top of the plane.

"So how ya liking it, Allura?" Adam asked from the front seat.

"This is incredible," said Allura. "The view is amazing."

"Well, it's about to get a whole lot better."

Allura peered around the side of Adam's seat and looked out over the long nose of the fighter. The sky ahead was turning reddish-gold as the sun rose. Behind them, she could still see stars.

Then, the sky erupted with light. The clouds just beneath them were tinted red, gold, and orange, with a few patches of white and gray. Ahead, the edge of the sun peeked over the cloud deck. To the north, a stack of thunderheads looked like a wall of fire in the sky. But far below, the ground was still shrouded in shadow. The beauty of the scene around her, combined with the steady roar of the engine was almost hypnotic. "Wow," she breathed.

Adam remained quiet, letting Allura concentrate on the scenery. Of course, he was enjoying it, too. He swerved a bit to pass between two thin cloud peaks, watching as the plane's contrails merged with the cloud tops as they curled in the Mustang's wake.

After flying into the rising sun for several minutes, Adam banked around and started back towards the castle. "So how was that?"

"Awesome," Allura replied. "Truly awesome. I had no idea how beautiful it was. The way the sun lit the clouds, the colors, everything. It was just inspiring."

"Yeah, it really is. And now you know why I like my morning hops so much."

"Yeah. I'll have to do this more often."

Adam was about to reply, when Coran's image appeared on the upper half of his windshield. "Captain, the Princess is missing."

Adam frowned. "No, she's not. She's with me."

"But Blue Lion..."

"No, I mean in _Thunderwing_. She's in the back seat, about two feet behind me." He glanced back at her. "Didn't you leave a note or something?"

"Yes, I did. Right on my nightstand," Allura replied.

Just then, Nanny's voluminous form replaced Coran on the screen. "You bring the Princess down here this instant," she demanded. "You have no right to take her anywhere in that rustbucket." She raised her voice. "Princess! Princess, are you there?"

"Yes, Nanny, I'm here."

"You come down right away. You know you shouldn't be alone with that hooligan. It is not proper. Why did you let him take you with him?"

"Nanny, I _wanted _to come. Besides, I'm sitting right behind Adam. I'm sure I'm safe."

"But still child, that plane is . . ."

"I am _not_ a child, Nanny."

"Of course, dear girl, but please, you must come down now."

"No."

"What?"

"I said, 'no', Nanny. Adam invited me to fly with him this morning, and I accepted. I am his guest, and I'll be down when he's ready to land."

"I'm sure you're ready now, aren't you, Captain?"

Adam glanced at Allura in his rear view mirror and saw her shake her head. "Well, actually, no. I still have to test the repairs under combat g-loads and recalibrate the structural integrity and inertial dampening fields." He saw Allura flash him a grateful smile.

"No, not with the Princess aboard."

"Nanny," said Allura, "I am a fully qualified military pilot. This is nothing I can't handle."

"Princess..."

"Nanny, I think the Princess has made up her mind," said Driscoll. "So how about you clear the channel so I can get these tests done?"

"You hooligan! How dare you?"

"Like this," Adam said, closing the channel.

Allura smiled. "Thanks, Adam."

"Hey, what're wingmen for?"

"So what do you have to do?"

"I'll show you. Hang on!" he said as he turned on his rock music. With Alice Cooper's "School's Out" blasting in his headphones, he snap-rolled the plane into a corkscrew dive.

In Castle Control, Keith, Coran, and Nanny watched the fighter fall, then pull up at 10,000 feet and go into a maximum performance climb

Nanny turned to Keith. "Commander, you must stop this!"

"How?" Keith asked. "I can't use Black Lion, and since we're not in combat, Adam doesn't have to listen to me." In truth, he didn't want to do anything. Something had made Allura speak out and refuse an order from Nanny, which was a rare thing. And Keith supported that. She was the Princess of Arus, and she did have a right to her own life. It was nice to see her acting like it. And since she'd made the first move, he was free to support her in any way he wanted.

"Nanny," said Coran, "Captain Driscoll knows what he's doing. He's an excellent pilot, and he will not let the Princess be harmed."

Nanny huffed. "If anything happens to her, I will hold you responsible as well," she said as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the chamber.

Keith and Coran glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.

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Deep in the dungeons of Castle Doom, footsteps resounded in the dark, stone corridor. Six Alliance scientists, researchers from Tango Seven, looked toward the heavy, steel door of their cell as the footsteps approached and stopped. Several loud beeps and clanks resounded in the room as the door's electronic and physical locks were disengaged. The door swung open to reveal a tall figure flanked by four guards.

"On your feet," Lotor barked.

The scientists, too tired and weak to resist, did as they were told. Since their capture, they had not been treated well. The four men had been beaten several times, and their female companions had become favorites of the guards.

Lotor's four guards filed in past the prince, shackled the prisoners' hands, and marched them into the corridor, where they joined twenty or so other prisoners from Tango Seven.

The group was led out of the dungeon and through the castle to a small ship, where they were locked into a cargo bay, which had been modified with several large windows. Through the windows, they watched the ground fall away as they lifted off and flew away over the desolate landscape of Doom.

"Where do you suppose they're taking us, Dr. Andrews?" someone asked.

Andrews, the leader of the research team, was a tall, well-built, graying man of forty-eight. Once the star running back of his high school football team, he had suffered particularly harshly at the hands of Lotor's goons, and now required assistance just to walk across the chamber.

He looked out the windows, and saw a slave village in the distance. The village was really just a barracks for the nearby work camp, but the slaves called them villages all the same, because that was the closest thing they had to a home.

"It seems we're of no more particular use to these bozos," Andrews replied. "It looks like we're headed for that work camp."

The group watched quietly as the ship approached the village and hovered there. They wondered a moment why they weren't landing, then Lotor's voice came over the intercom.

"_I'm sure you must be curious why I've brought you here. You have all worked very hard in your endeavors for the Alliance. So, I thought you'd enjoy seeing the fruits of your labor, as so many professionals of your caliber do._"

Looking down, the prisoners could see the slaves below them, moving among the buildings, always under the watchful eyes of the guards.

"Lotor, please," said Andrews, grasping Lotor's meaning. "These people are no threat to you. They've suffered enough. Don't put them through a terrible death by mutation."

"_Why, Dr. Andrews,_" said Lotor, "_Have you no idea what you've discovered?_"

Andrews was silent.

"_Then observe_."

As the reverberation of Lotor's voice faded from the chamber, the ship fired a single missile at the center of the camp. The scientists watched helplessly as it struck and detonated.

When the dust cleared, the carnage they saw below was incredible. Some cried, while others just looked on in shocked silence. Men, women, and children, slaves and guards alike, all were dead.

_My God, what have I done?_ Andrews asked himself as the ship turned and headed back to the castle.

"The first test is a success, Sire," said Haggar. She and the King of Doom had observed the test from her laboratory near Castle Doom.

Zarkon nodded. "Indeed. Most impressive. I wish Lotor hadn't used _that_ particular camp, though. That sector's mining equipment was just refitted last month."

"Yes, a pity, Sire," said Haggar

"Still," the King continued. "The weapon may be just what we need to defeat the Alliance and the Federation."

"And Voltron, My Lord," said Haggar. "And don't forget, this is just he vanguard of what is to come."

"Yes. Now, speaking of Voltron, when will your next robeast be ready?"

"Very soon, Sire. Very soon."

"Excellent. Then I won't keep you from your work."

Haggar nodded as Zarkon left the chamber. Now alone, Haggar entertained her own thoughts. Yes, these new weapons, these gifts of science, were wonderful. Perhaps too successful. If Zarkon was finally able to conquer the Alliance and the Federation, and at last achieved his dreams of conquest, what place would she have? Even now that he had his wonder weapons, would he still look to her for her magic? Would she still be the indispensable element of his plans that she had always been, or would her power and influence wane as his technology grew?

The old witch pondered these questions as she worked on her latest creation, and she felt a renewed zeal for her task. This _must_ be the robeast that destroyed Voltron. No other outcome would do.


	9. Solving the Puzzle

_Disclaimer:_ _I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by Paramount, World Events Productions, or anyone else. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_, (except for Mordock and Scotty) and the fighter, _Thunderwing_, as well as the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 9: Solving the Puzzle

"And that, my dear Allura, is how we do that," Adam said as he shut down _Thunderwing_'s engine and opened the canopy. Climbing out onto the wing, he helped Allura unstrap herself and get out of the plane.

"That was fun. Thank you, Adam," Allura said, giving his hand a brief squeeze before letting go.

"My pleasure," Adam said with a smile.

"Princess!" someone shouted across the hangar bay. Adam and Allura turned to see Nanny approaching them. "Princess. Oh, thank heaven you're safe. Come down from there at once."

Adam jumped down and offered Allura a hand, but she declined, jumping down beside the captain as Nanny caught up to them. "Princess, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Nanny," Allura replied in exasperation.

"I was so worried about you, up there in this antique rustbucket with that scoundrel," she shot a harsh glare at Driscoll before turning back to the Princess. "Anything could have happened to you."

"Nanny, I resent that," said Adam. "Call me what you want, but when you dis my bird..."

"You hooligan!" Nanny huffed angrily. "You insolent ruffian! How dare you take the Princess with you in this _thing_," she slapped the wing. "Endangering her life for the sake of tests. I should have you grounded. How an irresponsible child like you ever got command of a starship is beyond me. Disgraceful."

"Oh, shut up!" Driscoll snapped.

"_Excuse me_?"

"I told you to shut the hell up," said Driscoll. "And for once in your life, listen to someone else. First off, I would never endanger Allura or anyone else in my plane. I have, time and again, saved Allura's life, but you seem to conveniently forget that.

"Second, this fighter is maintained in top condition by myself, and lately Pidge and Hunk. Far from being a rustbucket, this is the cutting edge in fighters. I'd put _Thunderwing_ up against any Lion, any day.

"And third, I am sick and tired of the constant accusations and attacks from you toward myself and the other members of the Voltron Force. We all know that you think of Allura as a daughter, and you want to protect her. Well _so do we_. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge have sworn to do that. And in combat, I'm always watching her back. You might remember that. And you might also remember that if it wasn't for Keith and the boys, you'd still be hiding in some cave.

"And you know what else? You need to lighten up on Ally. She's up there with us every day, fighting for her people. There's damn few royals who do that. So rather than Trying to control her and bitching at her to quit flying, why not back off, let her make her own decisions, and show a little gratitude for the sacrifices she's making? Day in and day out, we all put our lives on the line to defend the people of Arus, including your fat ass.

"So the next time you want to dis us, call us hooligans and ruffians, you should stop and think about that. We may not be nobility, but we still deserve a little respect. And until we get it, you ain't gettin' any from me. Now step away from my plane."

Nanny's face was beet red as she stepped back from the Mustang. Never in all her years had she ever been spoken to so crudely! The nerve! The audacity! The hooligan! "How dare you?" she sputtered in fury.

"I'm fed up with the bullshit, Nanny. We all are. I'm just the first one you've ticked off enough to say something," said Driscoll.

"You insolent ruffian! I'll have you banned from the castle!"

"Truth hurts, huh? Good," Driscoll growled, climbing back onto the wing as Nanny sputtered and fumed behind him.

As he strapped into the cockpit, he looked down at Allura. "I'll see you at practice tonight."

Allura nodded. "Sure." She too was at a loss for words. She had never seen anyone actually dress down Nanny. She was stunned, but couldn't help feeling a little bit grateful, and also a little angry. Nanny _was_ just looking out for her, after all. And Adam had let her have it with both barrels.

"Oh, no you won't," said Nanny. "I forbid her to see you or even speak to you."

"And who are you to give orders to the Princess of Arus?" Adam replied as he cranked the canopy closed. Moments later, the engine came to life and _Thunderwing_ left the launch bay.

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Later that afternoon, Keith was walking down a corridor in the castle, reading over an intelligence report that had just come in. He was so engrossed that he almost didn't see Nanny coming the other way.

"Hello, Nanny," he said, stepping aside to let her pass.

"Ruffian," she mumbled.

Keith looked at her quizzically as she passed. _What was that about_? he wondered. But he brushed it off, being used to Nanny's many complaints about the team, ranging from their lack of titles to their allowing Allura to fly with them.

The report he was reading was disturbing. A Garrison spy on Doom had reported a new weapon being tested two days ago. An entire slave camp had been leveled, but the weapon left no traces of radiation behind.

Keith was certain that this had something to do with the captured scientists from Tango Seven, and wished now more than ever that Adam had tried harder to get them back. But there was no use in dwelling on it. It was done and over with. The problem now lay in figuring out exactly what this new weapon was, and, more importantly, how to defend against it.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he still had three hours before practice. More than enough time to brief the team. Allura was in a conference with some local village leaders, and Adam was on the _Berlin_, but he knew exactly where to find the others. With that in mind, he rounded a corner and headed for the lounge.

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Practice that evening was grueling. Keith had everyone shut down their navigational instruments and practice locating targets and waypoints by visual contact and ded reckoning. By the time practice ended and everyone returned to the castle, the pilots were mentally and physically drained.

Allura walked slowly into her room, barely able to keep her eyes open. She changed into her nightgown and got into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

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Dr. Saladin looked away from his screen and rubbed his eyes. He'd been working on the problem of modifying the _Berlin_'s shields to negate the effects of the ionized topaz, along with Mordock, Scott, and Jacobs. The four officers had been working on the problem from different angles for the past several days. Unfortunately, without a sample of the ionized topaz to work with, progress had been slow. Very slow.

After several attempts to isolate the elements that did the actual damage and guard against them specifically, the Sheik had taken a new course, looking at the problem holistically. He knew there had to be some way to defend against its effects, otherwise it would be a useless weapon, as it would do as much damage to those using it as it would to the target. Zarkon had to have a way to contain it safely, so his job was to discover what Zarkon's men already knew.

To that end, he'd started the day researching the ways in which the weapon might be delivered. Knowing Doom tactics, he looked at missiles equipped with lazon detonators.

So far, none of the simulations showed a danger. The weapon either wasn't potent enough to penetrate the ship's radiation shielding, or else it was too powerful and couldn't be properly contained.

Finally, the computer beeped and said, "Simulation ready." Saladin was about to test a set of mid-range variables that had seemed logical.

He looked back at the screen. "Run simulation."

He watched the first few seconds with disinterest. The missile launched normally, with no ill effects to the crew of the star cutter.

But as the weapon struck the side of the starship, something completely unexpected happened. Saladin's eyes went wide with shock and horror. He re-ran the simulation, and it happened again.

_Allah be merciful_, he thought.

Snapping out of his astonishment, he hit his combadge. "Saladin to Jacobs, report to sickbay immediately."

"_Jacobs here. What's wrong_?"

"I think I have the answer to our problem, and it is not good."

"_Acknowledged. On my way._"

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_Allura looked out of Blue Lion's cockpit, enjoying her view of the rolling, green countryside below. Everything seemed so peaceful, it was hard to believe that a war was raging._

_Suddenly, the landscape below her began to glow faintly. The glow slowly intensified as a mist began to enshroud and hide the ground, rolling like a wave across the land. Climbing higher, Allura saw the mist become thicker and thicker, until she couldn't see the ground at all. _

What's going on? _She wondered as she turned her Lion back toward the Castle of Lions._

_She saw something flash far below her, where the castle should have been. Swooping in low, she gasped in horror as she saw the castle. It had become encased in a gigantic crystal!_

_As she passed over it, the crystal began to pulsate, flashing white to yellow to blue and back. Pulling up sharply, she made for space, beginning to panic. Moving out of Arus' atmosphere, she looked down and saw that the mist had spread across the entire planet! _

_Terrified, she flew away from Arus as fast as she could. Looking back one last time, she saw the planet had become encased in a round, multifaceted crystal. As she watched, it began to flash and pulsate just like the castle had. Seconds later, the planet exploded in a hail of crystal shards._

Allura jolted awake, breathing fast, her heart racing. "What was that?" she asked herself. What did that dream mean? Arus turning into a crystal, then exploding? It was very strange, and very frightening. It almost seemed too strange to be believable. But she knew better than to dismiss such a dream out of hand.

She got out of bed and shrugged into her robe. She knew she'd never get back to sleep now. As she started to pace her room, her mind was running a mile a minute, thinking about the dream. Exploding crystals? Were there even such things? Unless...

_Could it be the topaz_? she wondered. But no, the threat from the ionized topaz was as a mutagen. It wasn't an explosive. Or was it? Could they have been wrong?

She walked over to her nightstand and picked up her communicator. She needed to talk to someone. She adjusted the controls until she had found the frequency she wanted.

"Berlin_ here._ _Lieutenant Montoya speaking_."

"This is Princess Allura. I need to speak to Captain Driscoll."

"_One moment_, _Your Highness_."

A few minutes later, a groggy Captain Driscoll said, "_Allura? What's wrong?_"

"I had another dream, and I think it has something to do with the ionized topaz weapon we've been worried about."

"_Well, I'm not surprised you had a dream about that. It's been a pretty serious topic lately_." He yawned. "_What happened?_"

Allura told him about the dream, and just as she was finishing, he said, "_Hang on a sec._ _Someone's at my door_."

She waited for several minutes before Adam said, "_Allura, wake Keith up. Be ready to beam aboard in fifteen minutes._"

"What's wrong?"

"_I'll explain when you get here. Driscoll out_."

Allura frowned at the communicator. What was going on?

Puzzled, she changed channels, calling Keith and relaying Adam's message. Then she got up and dressed. She had a feeling, and it wasn't good.

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Keith came jogging into the Control Room to find Allura already there. He'd been surprised when she'd called him so early in the morning. That combined with the strange message she'd relayed from Adam had him really perplexed.

A moment later, Allura joined him. As she finished putting her hair in a bun, he asked, "What did he say, again?"

"He just said that we should be ready to beam up, and that he'd tell us more when we got up there."

Keith nodded. "Well, then we're just waiting for him."

As if on cue, the guard on duty said, "I have a message coming in from the _Berlin_."

Keith reached over the guard's shoulder and pressed a button, opening the channel. "This is Castle Control."

"_Keith, it's me_," said Driscoll's voice. "_You and Allura ready?_"

"Yeah, we're ready," Keith said, glancing at Allura.

"_Okay, stand by_."

Keith closed the channel and stepped back next to Allura. Not for the first time, he noticed that she had a strange ability to look good, even with little preparation time.

A few seconds later, they felt a tingling sensation, and the room began to dissolve around them in an effect that looked like snow on a staticky monitor. Within moments, the Control Room had been replaced by the transporter room of the _U.S.S. Berlin_.

"Some ride," Keith commented as he and Allura stepped down off of the transporter pad. "So what's going on?"

Driscoll and Scotty came around from behind the control console. "We've figured out the thing with the topaz," Adam said, leading the way out of the transporter room. "The Sheik was working on some new variables he came up with, and it turns out that the problem with the topaz isn't biological."

"Then what is it?" Allura asked as the group walked into sickbay. Commander Gredar, Lt. Cdr. Jacobs, Lieutenant Mordock, and Dr. Saladin were already there.

"See for yourself," Adam said, gesturing to a monitor. Dr. Saladin ran the simulation for them. What they saw stunned them.

"Ionized topaz is not a feasible biological weapon," said Saladin. "It is too difficult to obtain an optimum level of the compound that could pose a threat to a target but not to the crew of the attacking ship."

"That missile carries a lazon warhead, enhanced with ionized topaz," said Jacobs. "Its yield is more than ten times that of a normal missile. Apparently, topaz in an ionized form reacts with the lazon and enhances its destructive properties. As you can see, our defenses are no match. It would blow through our shields and rip us apart."

"What about lazon-based energy weapons?" Keith asked.

"We are still working on that," said Mordock. "But it is likely that topaz would enhance their effects as well."

"So how can we defend against these new missiles?" Allura asked.

"We cannot," said Gredar.

"If one a' those wee beasties hits us, we're through."

"So if you can't defend against it, what can we possibly do?"

"We don't know. That's what we have to figure out," said Driscoll. "I was hoping that Pidge and Hunk could help us out, and maybe we can find a solution. Otherwise..."

"We're in trouble," said Keith.

"Yeah."

Keith nodded and looked at the screen one last time, noting the image of the _Berlin_, crippled and burning after a single hit. This did not bode well for the future. "All right. We'll tell the others after practice tomorrow."

"Okay," said Adam. "My crew already know, and I've got people working on it now."

"Aye, not the best reason to be woken in the middle of the bloody night," Scotty groused.

Allura smiled. "Well, we appreciate your help, Mr. Scott."

"Well, if that's everything, I think we should be getting back," said Keith, edging toward the door.

"Yeah, that's it for now," said Adam. "Uh, everyone's dismissed, then. We'll see where we're at tomorrow at the senior staff meeting."

The officers filed out of sickbay, and Adam went with Keith and Allura back to the transporter room.

The two Voltron Force pilots climbed onto the pad while Adam keyed in the coordinates and prepared to beam them down. "You guys ready, then?" he asked.

"All set," said Keith. Allura nodded.

Adam had noticed how she'd been sort of avoiding him that night. She hadn't spoken to him directly, and she'd avoided eye contact. Was she still mad about his yelling at Nanny? He didn't know. But as he energized the transporter and watched her fade into the matter stream, he decided that he had to talk to her. That would be his number one priority for tomorrow.


	10. Storm Surge

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that is owned by either Paramount or World Events Productions. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_, (except Mordock and Scotty), the fighter _Thunderwing_ and the story itself_.

Star Tron: Escalations 

Chapter 10: Storm Surge 

Barely an hour after returning to the Castle, the alarms jolted Keith awake. He quickly dressed and ran to the Control Room, meeting Lance and Pidge on the way. Hunk was already there when they arrived. "What's going on?" Keith asked.

"The _Berlin_ spotted a Doom task force near Shamara. Some of them broke away from the main group and are heading this way," Hunk said as Allura came into the chamber, just finishing putting her hair up.

Keith's decision was immediate. "Launch the Lions," he said.

Within moments, the five robot Lions took off from their hiding places and rocketed into the pre-dawn sky, setting a course toward Shamara. As they formed up, Keith hailed the starship. "Black Lion calling _Starship Berlin_, can you vector us to the breakaways?"

"_We're a little busy here, Keith_," said Adam. A burst of static crackled over the channel as the _Berlin_ took a hit. "_Head our way and you should find 'em_."

"Roger," Keith replied. He tuned the intercom back to the other Lions. "Okay, team, let's get 'em." He led the group straight toward the _Berlin_ at maximum velocity, the Lions straining with their pilots to put on every ounce of speed they could muster. "Watch your sensors, we don't have a perfect vector."

The tension mounted for the five pilots with each passing second. How many were there? What types of ships? Was there a robeast? These questions and more buzzed in their minds as they checked their instruments and prepared for battle.

Suddenly, Pidge called out, "I see them! Enemy ships at two o'clock low!"

Keith glanced at his sensors to confirm the vector. He saw twelve enemy battleships in a tight, four-column formation heading straight for the wormhole. "Attack formation four," he ordered. "Break and engage." On his own command, he guided Black Lion into a hard turn into the Doom ships and began his first attack. Streaking in full bore, Keith dove at one of the ships, his plasma cannon blazing.

Suddenly, his target and three other ships began shooting back. Several laser hits glanced off of Black Lion, forcing Keith to break off. "Aah," he grunted, gritting his teeth as he struggled to maintain control of his Lion.

"Keith, their defensive fire's too thick," said Hunk. "We can't get through."

"Pidge," said Keith, "use your Lion's space torpedoes. See if you can take out some of their guns."

"Right." Pidge came around, deploying the torpedo launcher from his Lion's back. "Space torpedoes!" he announced, sending a number of the compact warheads toward the battleships. Two were hit, both losing their upper turrets.

"It's working," said Allura.

"Pidge," said Keith, "hang back and try to take out their turrets. Hunk, you and Allura help him out with your Stingray missiles. Lance, let's go after those ships again."

"Now we're talking," said Lance as he formed up with Keith.

Green, Blue, and Yellow Lions dodged in and out of the turrets' range, firing missiles and drawing their fire and trying to take them out while Red and Black circled wide around the front for a head-on attack.

"Everyone attack now!" Keith ordered. He and Lance charged the columns of ships, their Lion daggers ready, while the others tried to draw as much fire as they could. Streaking down the column, Keith and Lance made quick, slashing attacks, disabling three battleships and destroying a fourth.

With their formation broken up, the remaining ships struggled to reassemble, but the Lions now had control of the battle. All of them streaked in, slashing, shooting, biting and clawing whatever crossed the paths.

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In the confusion, one ship managed to slip away. Moving out to a safe distance, Lotor's command ship came around. As the remainder of his detachment made a last-ditch attempt to flee, the Doom prince turned to the witch standing at his side. "Is it ready?"

Haggar stroked her blue cat. "Yes, My Lord, all is ready."

Lotor smiled. "Deploy the robeast!" he commanded.

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"Captain!" shouted Jacobs. "One of the ships just launched a robeast!"

The _Berlin_ had been very busy with the Doom fleet. Though holding their own, the ship and her crew were making little headway, and the battle had ground down to a draw, with neither side able to turn an advantage.

"Onscreen," Driscoll ordered.

The image on the viewer changed to show a turtle-like creature with massive, clawed hands and feet. It had no discernible head, but instead two eyes and a round, lamprey-like mouth could be seen on the top edge of the shell. It carried a long, thin staff with a wicked looking spiked club on one end.

"Where does he get these things?" Driscoll wondered aloud. He quickly weighed his options and made his decision, which was reinforced as the ship shuddered under another salvo from the enemy force. "The Voltron Force can handle Sheldon there. We've got enough to worry about."

The viewer changed back to an image of the battle at hand as two battleships came in on a close pass. "Torpedoes, fire!" Driscoll ordered. "Helm, come left to bearing two-four-zero mark three-thirty."

The torpedo salvo struck the two Doom battleships, tearing huge, ragged holes in their sides as the _Berlin_ ducked away and prepared another barrage.

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"Okay, team, time for the Big Guy," said Keith. "Activate interlocks. Dynotherms connected. Infracells up, megathrusters are go!"

"Let's go Voltron Force!" the pilots chorused. Seconds later, Voltron stood toe-to-toe with the turtle from hell.

"I could go for some turtle soup right about now," said Hunk.

"Well, let's get cookin'," said Lance. "Lion torch!" he announced as Voltron extended his right arm and a tongue of flame shot from it and enveloped the robeast. The monster howled in pain, then burst through the fireball and slashed at Voltron with his staff.

"Royal shield!" Allura called out, and the crest on Voltron's chest rose and spread, deflecting the blow, although the robot was sent spinning from the force of the impact.

Coming around, the demon turtle pointed its staff at Voltron again and the spikes shot out like missiles. Before anyone could react, Voltron was peppered with strikes.

Gritting his teeth against the errant electrical surges jolting his body, Keith called out, "Anyone hurt?"

"Naw, Keith, we're all right," said Hunk. "But I'm getting sick of this guy."

"I hear ya, Hunk, so let's see how he likes this," said Keith. "Spinning laser blades!"

The two disks formed in Voltron's hands and he hurled them at the robeast. Too slow to dodge them, the turtle turned its back and withdrew its limbs into its shell as the laser blades struck and harmlessly bounced off its carapace.

"So much for that idea," said Pidge as Keith maneuvered Voltron out away from the turtle-beast to gain some maneuvering room. He had an idea, but he had to set things up _just _right.

"Stingray missiles," Keith ordered, and two of the huge warheads shot from Voltron's feet. Once again, the turtle withdrew into its shell, and the missiles detonated against it with little damage.

But then, instead of putting its limbs back out, the turtle began to spin, and tilted edge-on to Voltron like some kind of demented discus. In a sudden burst of speed, it surged forward at the warrior.

"Dodge it!" Keith ordered, as Voltron sidestepped the attack, avoiding the turtle by inches. But the robeast wasn't so easily evaded. Tilting up on edge like a Frisbee, the robeast came at Voltron again, and again, Voltron dodged its attack.

Suddenly, the turtle popped out of its shell and fired another barrage of missiles from its staff. The small projectiles hit Voltron and sent him reeling.

Dazed, Keith shook his head to clear it. This robeast was tough. He'd caught them completely off guard. Looking up, Keith barely had time to warn the others before the robeast charged again.

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On the bridge of the _Berlin_, the crew braced themselves as another volley of enemy lasers rocked the ship. "Port shields at sixty-eight percent," said Jacobs. "Minor damage on deck fifteen."

"Come left one-one-zero degrees, impulse, all ahead one-quarter," Driscoll ordered. The starship was under a constant barrage of laser fire from Lotor's fleet, with over twenty ships pitted against the Federation vessel. The good news was, the odds were improving. Slowly.

As his ship completed the turn, Driscoll saw five enemy ships ahead, closing in. "Torpedoes, full spread, fire!"

Ten photon torpedoes flew from the _Berlin_ like a cosmic shotgun blast, easily finding their marks. Four of the ships were torn apart in a blaze of antimatter annihilation, flaming debris flying across the starscape. But the fifth ship was only slightly damaged, and returned fire with a merciless blast from its main cannon.

Several panels shot sparks and wisps of smoke drifted through the air.

"Finish him," Gredar ordered.

Jacobs eagerly complied, shredding the skullship with a series of phaser strikes as another barrage wracked the Federation ship, throwing several crewmen to the deck as the remaining battleships tried to exact revenge for their comrades.

Scanning her board, Singh called out, "Damage to the port impulse engine. Casualties reported on deck four."

"Upper shields at forty-seven percent and falling," said Jacobs.

"Return fire. Helm, maneuver sequence Archer-three."

The _Berlin_ began to dodge and jink as the Doom fleet closed in, forming a wide arc around the rear of the ship. The twenty-two remaining cruisers powered their main weapons batteries, drawing a bead on the lone starship.

"Aft phasers," Driscoll ordered. The turrets on the _Berlin_'s stern began hacking away the pursuing cruisers. Two of them turned away as the others fired, the combined assault striking the _Berlin_'s aft shield arc. The bridge crew was thrown about like rag dolls by the force of the blast.

Struggling to her feet, Jacobs waved a hand across her board to clear the thickening smoke away. What she saw wasn't good. "Aft shields collapsing, rear weapons offline, tractor beams offline."

"Main shuttlebay is damaged, casualty reports coming in from all decks," Singh called out.

"Shit," Driscoll spat. "Reroute tractor beam and aft phaser power to rear shields. Come about, three-quarters impluse power. T.J., fire at will. Shred those mothers."

The _Berlin_ turned into her attackers, unleashing a hellish storm of phaser and torpedo fire. Making a close pass along the echelon of skullships, the starship slashed and blasted away at the Doom cruisers, putting seven more out of action.

Suddenly, Jacobs heard a beep from her console. What she saw made her gasp. _Oh no, not now_! "Captain! Phasers are going offline!"

"Auxiliary power?" Driscoll asked.

Jacobs keyed some commands into her console. "Not working."

"Bridge to engineering!" Driscoll hollered.

"_Scott here_."

"What's happening to my phasers, Scotty?"

"_When we lost the aft mounts, it caused a power cascade through the entire system. Every bloody turret is goin' down!_"

"Well get 'em back!"

"_But sir_..."

"Just do what you can. Bridge out." He stood and turned to Jacobs. "Ready photons. We're gonna have to do this the old fashioned way."

He walked up between helm and ops. "Mike, come about, course bearing two-four-zero, impulse, all ahead one half."

"Captain, our forward shields are at fifty-six percent," said Jacobs. "If they hit us like that again..."

"Noted, Commander, but it's crunch time." Driscoll's tone brooked no arguments, nor were any offered. "Fire on my command."

Coming around again on the Doom fleet, the _Berlin_ began her attack run. The distance between the combatants closed quickly. Seconds later, the void between them was ablaze with weapons fire.

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Reeling from the robeast's full-on blitz, it was several seconds before Voltron recovered. All five pilots were badly shaken.

"Hold together, team," said Keith. "He hasn't got us yet."

The turtle stood there a moment, poised like a sumo wrestler, holding its staff in one hand. Keith saw his chance.

"Prepare for Lion-head attack!" he ordered. Voltron's arms stretched out forward and his feet spread apart. "Go for his limbs, guys."

"Right," the others acknowledged.

"Fire!"

The heads of Blue, Yellow, Red and Green Lions all launched, streaking toward the turtle. The surprised robeast hesitated, unsure of how to respond as the Lion heads attached themselves to its wrists and ankles. The robeast dropped its staff as the force of the impact sent it into a multi-axial tumble.

As the Lion heads rejoined Voltron, Keith called out, "Form Blazing Sword!" Voltron's hands came together, and the great sword formed between them. A mighty roar sounded from the warrior as he prepared to strike.

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"No!" Lotor yelled. "If Voltron uses his sword, the robeast is finished. Gunner! Target Voltron and fire. Full power!"

"Yes, My Lord."

Lotor watched as the gunner executed his orders. A barrage of laser fire cut across the void, catching Voltron's right shoulder and making him drop the Blazing Sword.

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Lance braced himself against the stray bolts of electricity zipping around Red Lion's cockpit.

"Lance, you okay?" Keith asked.

"Yeah, I'll live."

Keith cursed to himself. He'd forgotten about Lotor. He didn't usually get involved with the robeast attacks. This was a new tactic.

Voltron looked around. "Where's the sword?" Keith asked.

"Look out!" Allura warned as the robeast delivered a ferocious punch to Voltron's chest. The turtle had seen Voltron drop his sword, and wasted no time in capitalizing on the blunder.

"Ready for hand-to-hand," he said as the robeast came in again. "Block!" Keith ordered as the robeast swung. Voltron deflected the blow with his left arm as his right came up. "Lance."

"On it," Lance replied. "Lion torch!" A jet of flame shot from Red Lion's mouth, flambe'ing the robeast's face.

Withdrawing into its shell, the robeast spun as Voltron ducked back, ready to dodge, but the robeast had a surprise in store. It popped out of its shell, its hands and feet delivering a rapid series of hits that sent Voltron reeling.

Recovering from the blow, Keith looked up in horror to see the robeast coming at them again. Worse, it had somehow gotten its staff back, and now held it up, ready to strike. "Brace for impact!" he warned.

Suddenly, two explosions on the robeast's chest knocked it aside. "_Bingo_!" said a familiar voice. A second later, four more photon torpedoes hit the robeast, blasting it farther away from Voltron as the _Berlin_ closed in beside Voltron.

"Hey, Keith, I think you dropped something," said Adam. Keith looked over and saw _Thunderwing_ with the Blazing Sword secured in a tractor beam.

"Thanks, Adam," Keith replied. Voltron reached for the sword as Keith said, "_Thunderwing_ interface!"

The old fighter slid into the bay in Black Lion's back, and its added power shot through the warrior's systems as Voltron advanced on the robeast, which was still being bombarded by the starship.

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The stunned robeast spun as it was struck again and again. Confused and disoriented, it had no idea what to do.

Finally regaining its balance, the robeast looked around, hurt and _very_ angry. The first thing it saw was the _Berlin_, the source of its latest torment.

Bent on dishing out some payback, it lunged at the starship. But in its blind rage, it never saw Voltron preparing to attack.

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"Get him, boss," Adam urged. "If he gets to the _Berlin_, I don't know if she can take it."

"Right," said Keith. "Ready!" he announced as Voltron brought his sword up. "Attack!"

Voltron surged forward, closing in on the robeast. Swinging the Blazing Sword down, Voltron cut cleanly down the middle of the robeast.

But this robeast had one last, very nasty, surprise. As the Blazing Sword passed through its body, it activated a bomb. Made with the new lazon/topaz explosive, it was intended as the mother of all parting shots.

Luckily for Voltron, they had one asset Haggar hadn't counted on.

Driscoll's headset crackled as Lieutenant Mordock cut into the VF intercom. "_Captain, I'm reading a large energy buildup on the robeast. I've never seen anything like it._"

"Everybody back! Clear out!" Driscoll shouted. He dialed back into Voltron's internal comm system. "Keith, we gotta move, now!"

Voltron and the _Berlin _spun around and began to flee just as the bomb detonated. A blinding flash and titanic shockwave washed over both, and blinded Lotor's sensors.

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When his sensors cleared, Lotor could see neither the _Berlin_ nor Voltron. When a sensor scan did not reveal their presence, a small smile crossed his lips. The price had been high, but the outcome was as expected. He turned to the witch at his side. "My compliments, Haggar. We've finally done it."

"Indeed, Sire," Haggar replied.

"All ships, return to Planet Doom," Lotor ordered, his ship coming around as the remaining few ships of his fleet joined up. With Voltron and the _Berlin_ out of the way, he could take Arus at his leisure.

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"Whoa, what a ride," Singh said, looking around the hazy bridge.

"Good work, Lieutenant," said Jacobs. As the shock wave had approached the ship, Jacobs and Curtis had combined their efforts to reconfigure the shields and engine outputs, enabling the ship to ride the crest of the wave like an interstellar surfer. The wave had carried them nearly halfway to Arus.

"Status of Voltron?" Gredar asked.

Jacobs hailed Voltron, and asked Keith that very question.

"_We're all right. A little bit banged up, but we'll manage,_" Keith replied. "_Thanks for the help_." Voltron had ducked in between the starship's nacelles to take advantage of what little shield protection the ship could offer, and also to tag along for the ride. "_Sorry about the punctures on your nacelle pylons, though. The Lions have sharp teeth_."

"Forgiven, Commander," said Gredar.

Just then, Driscoll cut in. "Okay, Gredar, head back to Arus and get Scotty's boys working on DC. We'll debrief in an hour."

"Understood, Captain."

"_All right, folks_," said Keith. "_Let's go home_."


	11. Words in the Night

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to either World Events Productions or Paramount. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

_And thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially RL2. I know, contrary to previous statements, thatmy updates have been none too frequent, but grad school leaves little time for writing that isn't part ofa research paper. Sorry about that, and thanks for the patience._

Star Tron: Escalations 

Chapter 11: Words in the Night

After returning to Arus, both the Voltron Force and the _Berlin_'s crew spent the rest of that day repairing and recovering from the battle. Night had fallen over the Castle of Lions before the senior staff of the _Berlin_ and the Voltron Force met to compare notes over dinner.

Coran could see the fatigue on every face as they gathered around the table. Even the ever-stoic Gredar seemed somewhat diminished this evening.

The group ate quietly for several minutes before Adam asked, "So what's the story with the Lions?"

Keith and the others talked about how they'd engaged the small group of battleships, then taken on the robeast. When they got to the point where the starship showed up, Keith simply said, "You know the rest."

The damage the Lions sustained was mostly superficial, with only Red and Black suffering any serious injury. Of course, the Lions' magic made them capable of withstanding punishment that would destroy any mere machine.

The Starfleeters, though, had a different story to tell. Taking on thirty-eight battleships by themselves, even with all of the _Berlin_'s advantages, had been no easy task. Their combined firepower, along with the robeast's last haymaker, had all but obliterated the ship's shields and done extensive damage to the ship. Luckily, though the damage was widespread, none of it was critical, with one exception. The starship's rear phasers had been damaged beyond repair, and replacement would require at least two weeks in a starbase.

"Needless to say, that's not happening any time soon," said Adam. "But we've still got the aft torpedo launcher, so that'll hold us a while."

After dinner, the group broke into small pockets of conversation. Keith looked around and saw that Allura was gone. Concerned about her sudden departure, he went looking for her. When he found the Princess, she was standing on a balcony off of the dining hall. The sight of her silhouetted in the moonlight took his breath away. She looked almost ethereal standing there, surrounded by stars. For a moment, Keith had to fight the urge to rush in and kiss her. Instead, he stood there watching her and cursing herself. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to suffer?

But he just couldn't let himself do it. They were both pilots, and couldn't risk their emotions getting in the way of their duty. It was too risky. But it didn't change how he felt.

If only Sven were still here.

Sensing someone behind her, Allura turned. "Keith?"

"Yes, Princess, it's me."

Once again, her heart sank at the sound of her title spoken by Keith as he came up to stand beside her. She looked up at him, then back at the starlit sky as he continued. "I noticed you left early. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." He didn't look at her as he spoke. Instead, he looked out over the darkened horizon toward the glow coming from the village of Olessa to the south.

Allura glanced up at Keith. He was always looking after her. Sometimes, it got annoying, but honestly, she secretly enjoyed the feeling of security she got when Keith was around. Sometimes, it was nice knowing she had someone protecting her.

She smiled. "Thanks, Keith, but I'm fine. Just a little tired. I don't feel much like talking."

"Oh," Keith replied, almost dejectedly. "Well, if you like, I could go."

"No, you don't have to leave. This balcony's big enough for two."

Only now did he look at her, and she was looking right back at him.

"You know, I, uh…"

"Yes?" Allura prodded, leaning closer.

Keith's heart thundered, and a cold sweat appeared on his brow. "Uh, I, uh… I'm canceling practice tomorrow. The battle, uh, we did well enough that I think we can skip one. Everyone's pretty tired," he added, clearing his throat.

"Oh, I see," Allura replied, the moment broken. "I agree. I mean, I know my opinion doesn't count, but…"

"No, of course it counts," said Keith. "We're a team. Everybody's thoughts and opinions matter."

"Well, you could do a little more to show it, Commander," Allura teased.

"Like what?"

"Like maybe _asking_ us what we think every now and again," Allura replied.

Keith nodded. "Fair enough."

Just then, he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Adam coming toward them. "Hi, guys."

Keith nodded. "Adam."

"Hi, Adam," Allura greeted with a smile.

Adam walked to the railing and looked around. "Man, look at the view. Awesome." He looked back to his teammates. "My guys are heading back up. Everybody's beat. Even Gredar," he added, with a touch of awe in his voice.

"Yeah, not hard to understand," said Keith. "That was a tough fight."

"You ain't kidding," the Captain replied. "Damn tough."

The three stood there for several minutes, talking quietly. Finally Adam turned to Allura. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Allura nodded. "Of course." She turned to Keith. "I'll see you in the morning, Keith."

Keith nodded. "Good night, Princess."

"Later, Keith," Adam replied.

Keith watched them go, then turned back to the night sky with a soft curse. _Again!_ Again, he'd had a perfect opportunity and blown it. It was right there, the words were on his lips and bam! Mental brick wall.

Granted, it hadn't been a total loss, but he had thought that he might finally be able to tell her how he felt. At least he'd have gotten it in the open, so he could stop worrying about hiding it, even if he couldn't act on it. But then his "soldier mode" had kicked into full gear and pulled him back from that brink. Then Adam showed up.

He was always showing up.

_She and Adam have been spending a lot of time together lately._ Lance's words rang in his head, and he realized that the Red Lion pilot was right. The only thing keeping him from Allura, besides his talent for not capitalizing on the moment, was Adam.

So be it. If he had to fight for Allura, he would.

But what about the team? What would happen if he and Adam were at each other's throats? The others were sure to take his side, but he didn't want that. He didn't want the team polarized like that. Their integrity as a fighting unit was far more important than a testosterone contest.

Whatever he did, he had to keep this between himself and the Captain. But how could he do it? Professionals, officers, didn't compromise their professionalism over something so petty.

But since when was love petty?

No, he had to do something, but he also had to maintain both his and Adam's dignity. He would act as an officer and a gentleman, but he would not back down.

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Allura led Adam to her study. When they arrived, she sat down on a large sofa, and gestured for Adam to join her. The room was dimly lit by a few lamps, casting a warm glow.

"What's on your mind, Adam?" she asked softly.

"Well, actually, it's about last night, in sickbay." He paused, searching for the right words. "You seemed kinda…distant. Like you were avoiding me. I was just wondering if I did something to tick you off. I mean, if it's that thing with Nanny…"

"Well, yes and no. That was part of it, but there was more to it. When you and Nanny argued, I really was not sure who I wanted to win."

Adam looked at her quizically, not catching her meaning.

"I really liked that you stuck up for me like that. It was really sweet, and the boys never stood up to Nanny. It was nice to feel like I had an ally for once, instead of trying to stand on my own.

"But on the other hand, I can't blame Nanny for feeling the way she does. And I can't say I want her to completely leave me alone. She's the closest thing to a mother I have now, and I love her, even if she does drive me crazy sometimes. She means well, and she only wants to look out for me."

"But Allura, she's _always_ on your case. 'Princesses shouldn't fly' or 'why do you associate with those ruffians?' Or 'I forbid you to speak to that hooligan.' I know she only wants what's best for you, or her idea of it anyway, but she needs to loosen up."

"Yes, and she will, eventually. We just have to give her time. I admit, I was a little mad at you for talking to her like that, but part of me was cheering you on. It was really confusing." She looked him in the eye. "I'm not asking you to like Nanny or agree with her. I just want you to get along with her. She really is a wonderful person. She just gets very protective of me."

Adam nodded. "All right, I understand. And I'll try to patch things up with Nanny. It's just, I see you out there with the others, fighting for your people, and doing well, really kicking ass, then all she does is badger you not to fly, and it kinda sets me off."

"She's not badgering me, Adam," Allura said, almost angrily. "She's _begging_ me. She's scared to death that I might be killed. I've learned to live with that possibility, like the rest of the team, but she hasn't. She wants me to do what's safe. I just don't have that option right now."

Adam was silent a moment, absorbing Allura's words. "Wow," he said finally. "I had no idea."

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. It's not your fault. She uses the 'angry guardian' mode to hide her fears, then vents it on you boys for letting me in harm's way. That's not fair either. But now that you know, try to be a little more understanding of her. It isn't personal."

"Yeah, sure, of course." He paused a moment, and a tense silence hung between them. He studied her face, how the light accented her hair, reflected off her cheeks. She was beautiful. Then he noticed a single tear creeping down her face. "Allura, you okay?"

She looked up at him. "Yes," she said finally. "There was something else about that argument. You called me 'Ally'."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"That's what my parents used to call me. 'Little Ally.' Especially my father. Nobody has called me that since they died. I was just kind of surprised. It reminded me of them, and it caught me off guard."

_Jesus. Smooth move, bonehead_, Driscoll berated himself. _Strike two_. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking. It just kinda popped out. I'm really sorry, Allura. I didn't mean to stir up bad memories like that."

"No, they weren't bad, I just wasn't ready. But it made me remember how much I liked that nickname. It reminds me of them, but in a good way. So many of my memories of them are tied to the war, but that brings back a happier time." She stopped a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I've been thinking about it, and I've decided that if you want to call me 'Ally' it's okay. I even think I'd like that. But only you," she added quickly. "Not the others."

"Why not?"

"Because you're one of the few people who see past my title. I've only known you for a few months, but I think you're one of the people I feel closest to. You see me for who I am, not what I am. And I really appreciate that, even if you do apologize too much."

Adam couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Ally. Although I don't know if all that's really justified. But I've said it before, I'm your wingman and you friend. I'm always here for you."

Allura smiled back. "I know you are. And thanks."

Adam nodded and rose. "Well, I should be getting back. Still a lot of work to do up there."

"All right."

"I'll talk to Nanny tomorrow and try to set things straight."

Allura got up too and walked him to the door. "Thanks," she said. They came to the door and stepped into the corridor, where she bid him good night.

"Good night, Ally," he said softly, then turned and left.

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On Planet Doom, Lotor walked into Zarkon's throne room with a triumphant swagger. The fact that he'd lost most of his fleet, and most of the remaining ships were damaged did nothing to curb his superiority complex. "Father!" he called. "Voltron and the _Berlin_ are no more. Arus is ours for the taking."

Zarkon regarded his son nonchalantly. He saw Haggar slink in and take her usual place in the shadows on the far side of the chamber. "Is that so?" he replied. "Then perhaps you'd like to explain the intelligence reports I received not two hours ago, reporting the Lions returning to their bases, and the _Berlin_ entering orbit above Arus?"

"_What_? That can't be! I saw them destroyed with my own eyes!"

"Then perhaps you are in need of medical attention, because your eyes have decieved you," said Zarkon. "Once again, you have failed. And tell me, how much of my fleet have I lost?"

Lotor didn't answer.

"And not only have you failed, but apparently, our new weapons are not as great as we expected." At this, Haggar smiled. The King had no idea that it was not Lotor's fault, but hers that the weapon had failed. She had ever put in enough of the ionized topaz. Just enough for a decent light show, but no more. Hardly the amount calculated as necessary to wipe out Voltron.

Oblivious to the witch, Zarkon continued. "So, my moronic boy, how do you intend to rectify this situation?" Before Lotor could respond, Zarkon answered his own question. "The _Berlin_ is crippled. You are due that much credit. But they are making repairs. While they are helpless and unsuspecting, you will take your remaining ships and attack them while they are vulnerable."

"But I have only eight left!" Lotor protested. "I'd need three times that. Even with their shields out, their weapons can still destroy such a small fleet."

"Then you had best be quick, my son."

Lotor nodded. "Very well, Father," he said with a sneer. He turned on his heel and stormed from the room. The _Berlin_, he decided, had humiliated him for the last time.


	12. Hit & Run, Trip & Fall

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other stuff that is owned by Paramount or WEP. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter _Thunderwing_ and the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 12: Hit & Run, Trip & Fall

_Captain's Log, Stardate 51382.1: Repair work continues as we bring the ship back up to spec. Captain Scott informs me we'll be back up near full capacity within 36 hours, which will be most welcome. We've received word that the first modules of the starbase to be built near Arus will be arriving in a few days, so we're going to be looking at some security duty in the near future. Just wish we could get the aft phasers back._

Driscoll deactivated the log recording and picked up a laser welder and went back to work on the replicator mounted on the side of his ready room. Every available hand was working on the repair effort, and the captain was no exception.

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With no practice that morning, the Voltron Force found themselves with some unexpected free time. And on this beautiful, sunny day, that could only mean one thing…

Lance surveyed the field. Two on two. Fair odds. With the wind at his back, they had the offensive. Piece of cake. "Down, set, hike!" Lance yelled as Pidge snapped him the ball, then went out for a pass. Keith stayed close to the little guy as he dodged and weaved, trying to open himself up for Lance to give him the ball. Lance dropped back, looking for an opening.

At this point, Keith and Hunk were up 21-17. They were playing in the field near the Castle, with Red, Green, Black, and Yellow Lions marking the corners of the field. Lance was about to risk a quick pass down the middle, when he was suddenly struck hard and fell to the ground. When his vision cleared, Hunk was standing over him.

"Man, Hunk, you gain weight?" Lance grumbled as the big man pulled him to his feet. "How does a guy like you sneak around like that?"

Hunk beamed. "Simple. You weren't paying attention," he replied.

Keith and Pidge returned to the line. "Okay, so it's third and twelve," said Keith. "You wanna keep going or surrender?"

Lance snorted. "You wish. We're going for it." The boys took their marks as Lance signaled a shotgun play to Pidge, then made a quick call. Just as Lance handed off the ball, Keith's communicator went off. He stopped short and whipped it out as Pidge went sailing by him. "Keith here."

Pidge raced by his CO and on down the field, running flat out. He didn't stop until he spiked the ball between Red and Green Lions. "Oh, yeah, touchdown!" he yelled, dancing around.

But his end-zone celebration was short lived as Keith called out, "Launch the Lions! Doom ships inbound!"

The game suddenly forgotten, all four pilots scrambled to their Lions and took off. Blue Lion joined them a moment later, and the five ships headed up into space.

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Clearing Arus' atmosphere, Keith looked around, noting that the other four Lions were in formation with him. Looking up, he saw the _Berlin_ above them. The starship was coming around to face the incoming attack as the Lions raced by.

Then he saw them. Eight Doom battleships in a vee formation, heading straight at the _Berlin_. They ignored the Lions and dove at the starship, their laser batteries and missile racks raining hellish fire on the Federation ship, even as the Lions began their counter attack.

The starship answered the attackers, it's own phaser mounts slashing at the forward echelon of the Doom force while the Lions attacked from the sides and rear. Everywhere were red beams, the glare of missile engines, and the blinding flash of detonating warheads.

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Lotor gritted his teeth in frustration as he saw the ships on either side of his own fall out of formation, torn asunder by the return fire of the Federation and Arusian ships. Even crippled, the _Berlin_ was more than a match for his meager fleet. And with the Lions helping defend her, this mission had quickly gone from fool's errand to suicide mission.

Completing their attack run, Lotor ordered the remaining ships to return to Planet Doom at full speed. Hopefully, he could gain enough of a lead that his enemies would not follow.

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Keith saw the Doom ships withdrawing. Of the original eight, only three were left, and one was falling behind the other two. He and Lance teamed up to deal with this straggler, and then regrouped with the others to pursue the last two.

"Okay, everyone, there's two left," he said. "Don't let them get away."

"Right, Keith," said Lance.

"You bet," said Pidge.

"Right," Allura said.

"Uh-huh," Hunk nodded.

"Lemme at them bastards!" said Captain Driscoll angrily as _Thunderwing_ came out of nowhere and overtook the Lions. "Nobody takes pot shots at my boat and gets away with it! I'm gonna blow those mothers clear to hell!" The Mustang raced ahead, closing on the skullships, the torpedo launchers under its wings already telescoped and ready to fire.

"Adam, form up," Keith said firmly. He understood the Captain's motivation, but determined to retain control of the engagement.

Adam grumbled a reply, but obliged, taking his usual position off of Blue Lion's flank as the six ships throttled up to keep pace with the Doom ships.

Keith had no idea what had happened on the starship to get Adam so mad, but he figured it had to be bad, otherwise the starship would itself be pursuing the attackers. But whatever happened, he intended to see to it that neither of the Doom ships made it back to base.

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Lotor looked anxiously over the shoulder of the droid manning the sensor operator's post. The Lions were gaining on him. At this rate, he'd have only a few minutes more before they caught him. But then, he noticed something. The starship wasn't with them. It was only the five cats and that infernal fighter that pursued him. Perhaps there was a chance.

But not facing them in open space. That was too risky. He knew the Lions would be too good. But if…

He punched a few buttons on the sensor panel, brining up a chart of the area. A few seconds later, he found what he was looking for.

"Alter course for this planet," he ordered. "We'll make our stand there."

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Keith watched as the two skullships changed course and accelerated. At that speed, they could keep ahead of the Lions indefinitely. Fortunately for the Voltron Force, they could not maintain it. It was a sprint speed, meant for short dashes, not sustained flight.

"Keith, if we turn now, we can get close enough for a couple of shots," Adam pointed out.

Maybe. Just maybe, but if they missed, or didn't do enough damage, they'd have to wait anyway. No, it would be better to let Lotor tip his hand. And he knew that the ships would not be too much trouble for the Lions to deal with.

"No, we'll keep following for now. Let's see what they're up to before we attack. Pidge?"

"Yeah?"

"Check the star charts. See if there's anything along this course. Planets, bases, whatever."

"You got it, Keith," the boy replied. He put Green Lion on autopilot and started scanning the charts. Ten minutes later, he had an answer.

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Half an hour after the _Berlin_ was attacked, the Doom ships arrived at a small planet, MCP-182. It was a small, uninhabited world with thick rings and a number of moons. The planet itself was habitable, with abundant water and an oxygen atmosphere, and had in fact been scouted by the Alliance for colonization just prior to the outbreak of the war. However, the immediate interest had been its moons and rings. They were rich with ores used in the production of spacecraft, and the Alliance had set up mining stations to harvest the metals.

But now, the mining stations were in Doom hands, and manned by worker droids. And it was here that Lotor intended to make his stand among the debris of the ring system, which he hoped to use to his advantage as a sort of cosmic sniper's nest.

The two battleships made their way quickly into the rings and separated, each getting itself lost in the turbulent maze of debris, then settling in to wait for an opportunity to present itself.

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The Voltron Force approached MCP-182, following the two ships. They saw their prey move into the rings, where their sensors lost them among the debris and electromagnetic interference.

Keith brought Black Lion to a stop, and the others gathered around him. Red Lion turned its head toward Black and Lance's voice sounded over the comm. "What do you think, Keith?"

Keith paused a moment, studying the situation. Lotor obviously wanted them to follow. The question was why? What was waiting for them in there? A robeast perhaps? Or maybe some new weapon like the topaz bomb that had nearly destroyed them a few days ago.

Finally, Keith replied, "Hunk, take Adam and see if you can find them. Report back in ten minutes." He knew that with Yellow Lion's earth powers and _Thunderwing_'s sensors, they'd have the best chance of finding the Doom ships, and of doing it with the least risk to themselves. "The rest of us will stay here in case they come out.

"Right, Keith," said Hunk. Adam joined up on his wing, and the two headed into the rings. As luck would have it, he didn't have long to wait. Just under seven minutes later, Hunk and Adam returned.

"Did you find them?" Keith asked.

"Sure did, Keith," Hunk replied happily. "I'm sending you the coordinates now. It looks like they're just sitting there waiting for us."

"Or playing possum, hoping we'll give up and go home," Pidge commented.

"No way. They're ready for battle and scanning the daylights out of the area," said Adam. "They want us to come in after them."

"Did they see you?" Keith asked.

"No, we were dodging between asteroids. We only got a few glimpses of them, but enough to know what we were looking at," Hunk replied.

Keith looked at the coordinates Hunk had sent him. The two ships were less than 100 kilometers inside the rings. He agreed with Adam's take. They wanted the Lions to come after them.

"Well, it'd be rude to keep Lotor waiting. Lance, you, Hunk, and Pidge circle around and attack from the far side. Adam, Allura, and I will go straight in.

"Okay, Keith," Lance said as Red Lion broke off. "We'll see you in there." He led Hunk and Pidge off around the far side of the rings, while Keith took the others in.

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Lotor paced around the bridge of his command ship anxiously. The Voltron Force should have arrived at the planet by now. So where were they? He kept looking at the displays of the sensor and communications stations. Nothing. No messages from the other ship, and nothing on sensors. Of course, with all the debris in the ring system, the Voltron Force would have to be almost on top of them before they'd see them.

Grunting in frustration, Lotor returned to his throne-like command chair. Nothing to be done now, except to wait.

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As Lotor was seating himself in his chair, Kieth was leading his group toward the Doom vessels. Black Lion stopped alongside a large ice boulder, just short of the coordinates Adam had provided. Blue Lion and _Thunderwing_ pulled up to Black Lion as Adam said, "Just ahead there, Keith. That's where Hunk and me found them."

"How many?"

"Just two."

"What's the plan, Keith?" Allura asked.

Keith paused a moment before answering. "Rush them. Hit 'em with everything we've got, fast and hard."

"Simple, straightforward ass-kickin'. I like it," Adam said with a grin.

A moment later, Lance's face appeared on the intercom screen. "We're ready, Keith. Just give the word."

"Okay, team, let's go!"

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"Prince Lotor! The Lions…" That was all Lotor's sensor officer could get out before the ship was rocked by the attack. The control panels on the bridge blinked and spewed smoke as a second volley struck home, causing power couplings to burst, spewing sparks across the bridge.

"Return fire!" Lotor bellowed. "Blast them! Destroy the Voltron Force!"

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"Bingo!" Keith heard Adam exclaim as his torpedoes struck one of the skullships, ripping huge holes in the vessel's side.

He looked back at his own target. The lead battleship was right ahead, and Lance was closing on it from the other side. "Let's get him, Lance."

"After you," the Red Lion pilot replied as the two began their attack.

"Lion daggers!" Keith called. The blades formed in the mouths of the lions as they raced in. Slamming their heads sideways, the lions dug their blades into the hull of the battleship, ripping huge gashes as they went. Dozens of small explosions erupted in their wake as they severed fuel lines, ruptured power conduits, and breached compartments. Reaching the end of the ship, they crossed paths and ran down the other side of the ship, leaving a second series of cuts.

"Get clear! Keith yelled. "It's gonna blow!"

The Volton Force quickly fell back into the ring debris as the battleship broke in two and exploded in a blinding flash. A chunk of the hull crashed into the second ship. Already crippled by the torpedo strikes and claw strikes from the other Lions, it too exploded in a cascade of fire and debris.

Just then, on an inexplicable impulse, Allura looked at her sensor display. Her eyes widened in surprise as she called, "Keith! There's an escape pod heading for the surface. It came from the lead battleship."

"It's gotta be Lotor," said Pidge.

"Whoever it is, they're not getting away," said Keith. "After him, team!"

Chasing the pod out of the rings, the Lions followed it down through the planet's atmosphere, tracking it until it crashed into a densely forested hillside.

"I'm detecting a life form down there," said Pidge. "He survived the fall."

Keith looked around and spotted a clearing nearby. "Okay, Pidge, you stay airborne and track him. The rest of us will land over there and go after him on foot."

"Right," the others chorused. Pidge began circling over the crash site, while Keith led the others to the clearing.


	13. A Prince in Your Palm

_Discalimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that it owned by WEP or Paramount. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 13: A Prince in your Palm

Lotor slowly emerged from the escape pod, grunting at the pain that shot from his right knee to his hip. That was _not_ one of his better landings. He took in his surroundings, trying to get his bearings. He knew the Voltron Force would not be far behind, and set off through the trees as quickly as he could on his injured leg. He had to hold out for just a few more hours. By then, reinforcements would arrive, and the Voltron Force would have to leave.

He heard a roar and the deep growl of an engine nearby, and looked up as Green Lion passed directly over him. He continued on, crossing a small ridge, pausing only a moment as he felt the ground tremble beneath him, and he knew he was out of time.

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Half a mile away, the Voltron Force emerged from their Lions and gathered in the middle of the clearing. Keith looked at Green Lion, circling a short distance away, showing them Lotor's position. He turned back to the team, just behind him. Lance, Hunk, and Allura all had their blasters drawn, and Adam held a tricorder in one hand, and his phaser pistol in the other.

"Adam, do you have a fix?" Keith asked.

The Captain pushed a few buttons on the tricorder. "Yeah, about a click and a half thataway," he pointed a little to the right. "Blue boy ahoy."

Keith nodded. "Okay. Everyone set your blasters to stun. We want Lotor alive." He heard the clicks as the team dialed down the power settings on their weapons.

"So what's the plan?" Lance asked.

"Fan out, twenty-foot intervals. We'll advance in a line, that way it'll be harder for Lotor to evade us, and harder for him to take us out." He looked at the others. "I'll take center, Adam and Lance on the ends. Remember, don't rush in. Lotor's a highly trained soldier with special ops experience. Be ready for anything."

The others nodded their understanding, and took their positions. Keith gave a hand signal, and the five soldiers advanced at a brisk walk, heading toward Lotor's position. Keith signaled them to pause for a moment while Adam scanned ahead. The Captain gave him the universal OK sign, indicating no sign of traps or Lotor in the immediate vicinity, and Keith motioned them forward again.

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The line advanced quickly, but carefully, wary of any surprises that Lotor may have left for them. They reached the coffin ship within twenty minutes, and Adam spent several minutes scanning it and the immediate area.

Allura looked at Keith, who was kneeling down, staring intently at the dirt. She approached him and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Tracking," Keith replied, not looking up. He pointed to the two footprints he was studying. "Lotor's injured."

"How can you tell?" Allura asked, unable to tell any difference between the two boot marks.

Keith circled his finger around the right footprint. "This one's deeper than the other. He's limping." He stood and looked at the others gathered around the pod. "It'll slow him down, but it might make him more desperate too. We need to be really careful now." He led Allura back toward the others, and told them what he'd told her.

"So what do we do about it?" Hunk asked.

"We need to be ready for anything. We've got less than two hours before Doom renforcements could arrive. We've got to get Lotor and get him out of here."

The team got back into their search formation, and Adam gave them their heading with his tricorder. Without a word, Keith led them on into the forest.

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From his perch high above, Pidge watched his sensor display unblinkingly as Lotor scrambled through the woods, trying to escape the others, who were steadily gaining. Less than half a kilometer now separated the Voltron Force from the object of their pursuit. And they were closing in.

Forty minutes later, Pidge saw Lotor make a sudden dash to one side, and he remained still. The Voltron Force was nearly upon him, and Pidge warned his friends. "Keith?"

"_Yeah, Pidge_?"

"Lotor's about a hundred meters ahead of you, now off to your right. He's not moving."

"_Thanks, Pidge. Keep us posted._"

"Roger."

On the ground, Keith quietly passed the information on to his teammates, and the group tightened up and turned, heading toward Lotor, ready for anything.

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Lotor scrambled through the woods. He knew he couldn't stay ahead of the Voltron Force much longer. He was able to block the pain from his mind, but the physical damage was slowing him down too much. Then, he saw movement, far behind him, and knew instantly what it was. He was through running. It was time to stand and fight.

Looking around quickly, he spotted several trees that had fallen, making a sort of wall in the middle of the forest. It was his best chance.

Drawing his laser sword, he drove for the trees, throwing himself behind them. Between the trees and the low brush that was growing among them, he was well out of sight. Hopefully, he could surprise them. He knew if he could wound at least one, he'd have a chance. The others might give up the chase to get their friend to safety. A foolish choice, but one he was sure they would make.

He saw Green Lion circle above him, and part of him knew that he couldn't win. But the rest of him refused to accept it. Surrender was weakness, and the weak were conquered. Lotor of Doom would not be conquered.

So he crouched, leg throbbing, blade at the ready, as he heard the Voltron Force approaching.

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Adam stared at his tricorder, watching the readout as the numbers counted down, showing the Voltron Force's decreasing distance from Lotor's position. When the counter wound down to a mere twenty meters, he gave Keith a wave. Keith motioned for the others to stop, and the group came together.

"Where is he?" Keith asked.

Adam consulted the tricorder again. "Looks like he's in that brush," he said, pointing to a group of fallen trees and low scrub.

"Okay, spread out and surround him. But stay alert. He might try anything," Keith said.

The others nodded and began to walk around the deadfall, spacing themselves out, holding their weapons ready. Keith watched his team move into position, and he was pleased at how they executed his orders. They were ready for anything Lotor could throw at them. And they had to be. A wounded animal, when cornered, was unpredictable and prone to extreme violence, and those instincts extended to humanoids. Especially those trained in lethal combat.

When everyone was ready, he moved a few steps closer to the fallen trees. "Lotor, we have you surrounded. Surrender, and come out with your hands on your head."

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Lotor couldn't believe his ears. How dare he? How dare they presume to order him. Treating him like some animal, trying to trap him.

But even through his anger, he knew he had little choice. Even if he were fast enough to take out one or two, the others would surely get him before he could escape. He saw them in his mind's eye, weapons drawn, watching his hiding place intently, waiting for him.

_Well, we shall see_, he thought. He peered out from the brush, and saw his target. Commander Keith stood there, waiting for him.

He would wait no longer.

With a fierce battle cry, Lotor leapt from his hiding place, raising his sword high over his head, the wicked energy blade glowing red, thirsting for the blood of his prey. Landing hard, the Prince of Doom lunged, his sword aimed at Kieth's heart.

Just as he reached his target, Lotor heard the whine of a laser somewhere behind him, and the world went dark.

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Keith looked at the unconscious Prince at his feet, then looked up at Lance, who dramatically blew off the barrel of his blaster. "Guess he was feeling lucky," he quipped.

Keith smiled at his friend's smart-aleck remark. "Okay, Clint, let's get him back to the Lions."

"Who's he riding with?" Hunk asked.

"Not me," said Lance.

"Huh. He's unworthy of my bird," Adam scoffed.

"You can't let him ride with Allura," Hunk pointed out.

Keith thought a moment. Hunk had a good point. If Lotor came to in Blue Lion, there'd be trouble for sure. In fact, he didn't want Lotor in any Lion. Which left only one choice.

"Adam, he's going with you." Keith said.

"Aw, man," Driscoll groused. "Are you serious?" He wouldn't argue with Keith. He'd agreed to follow Keith's orders on VF missions, and he was true to his word, but he'd make sure his feelings on the issue were known.

"Completely," Keith assured him. "Now let's get him out of here before he wakes up."

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It was more than an hour before Driscoll returned to his ship, after dropping a still-unconscious Lotor off at the Castle of Lions. The first thing he did was seek out his first officer. When he'd taken off, the skullships had just broken away, and he needed to find out what had happened to his ship.

As he'd approached, he'd seen several new burns on the hull from the attack. And now he regretted not staying longer. He remembered the wisps of smoke drifting around the bridge as he'd boarded the turbolift, and mentally cursed himself. That time, he'd deserted his post. No question.

He found Gredar in the first place he'd expected to find him, on the bridge, closely monitoring the repairs of the ship from one of the auxiliary consoles on the perimeter of the bridge, near the viewer. Driscoll invited the Gorn into his ready room, and asked for his report.

Most of the repair work done over the last two days had been completely undone. Two of the dorsal phaser arrays were down, as was the entire shield grid. Most of the shots fired at the ship had struck the bare hull, causing hull breahes and significant damage within the saucer section. They had lost three crewmen, and two more were in sickbay's intensive care unit. Others had been treated for injuries and released back to duty.

Driscoll's anger flared, and now he wished he'd depressurized _Thunderwing's _cockpit on the way back. Lotor had now killed ten of his men. And he wanted payback.

Suppressing his emotions, he thanked Gredar, and released him back to his duty. He looked down at the desk, and saw the laser welder right where he'd left it. He picked up the tool, and looked at the replicator in the wall, the repairs unfinished. He set to work, finishing the repairs, knowing he wouldn't be attending the victory party tonight at the castle. He had a lot of writing to do.

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The next morning at the Castle of Lions, the Voltron Force walked into the control room following Lion practice, to review their performance with Coran. Just as the Prime Minister was about to call up the logs, the console beeped, indicating an incoming transmission. Coran looked at the identity code from the carrier wave, and his eyebrows shot up. "Princess," he called, looking at her. "King Zarkon wishes to speak with you."

There were expressions of shock and distrust from the team as Allura stepped up to the console. As Keith stepped up beside her, she nodded, saying, "Put him on, Coran."

The image of Zarkon appeared on the main screen. "Princess Allura, Commander Keith. You have something of mine."

"Yes, what of it?" Allura said coldly, diplomatic protocol forgotten. This was the man responsible for making her an orphan, and for devastating her planet and enslaving her people. He was, in her opinion, unworth of such niceties.

Zarkon sneered at her. "You'd do well to watch your tongue, Your Highness," he rebuked.

Lance made to say something, but Keith silenced him with a look.

Zarkon paused, seeing the exchange, then continued. "You're holding my son captive. Whether in your castle or on that ship orbiting your planet, I don't know. I could easily take him back by force, but I think there's an easier way. I have something that you want back, as well."

"And what's that?" Keith asked.

Zarkon glared at Keith. "The scientists and crew of Tango Seven."

"Are you proposing an exchange?" Allura asked.

"I am. My incompetent son for your scientists. You must admit, it's a fair trade."

Allura considered a moment. "I'd like to confer with my advisors," she replied.

"By all means," Zarkon replied with feigned cordiality. Allura and Keith stepped away from the console and joined the others.

"What do you boys think?" Allura asked.

"Don't do it," said Lance. "What makes you think he'll hold up his end?"

"I agree, Keith," said Adam. "We've got one of the war's major players in the palm of our hands. If the Federation were to get our hands on Gul Dukat or a Founder like this, there's no way we'd give him back. I know it sounds mean, but those scientists are a small price to pay for keeping Low-Blow."

Keith thought about Zarkon's proposal, and then remembered what Graham had told him. This was a perfect opportunity to correct a lot of mistakes.

"I think it would be worth it, Princess," he said. Seeing the skeptical looks from the others, he elaborated. "If we can get them back now, we should. Who knows what they'll be forced to help Zarkon develop in the future. It's the lesser of two evils."

Allura looked at Keith, then at the others, thinking about what they'd said. It was not an easy decision.

When they returned to the console, Zarkon asked, "Well?"

Keith looked at him, but it was Allura who spoke. "We agree to your terms. We will contact you later to arrange the exchange."

"A wise choice," Zarkon said condescendingly. "I will await your call." The screen went dark, and the room erupted with objections.

"Keith, you're nuts!" said Pidge.

"Allura, why?" Adam asked. "We've got an edge, and you're going to just give up?"

"What are you thinking?" Lance asked.

Keith looked around the room, and off in the corner, he noticed a small, gray box. He looked back at Lance and said, "I'll tell you…"


	14. Bait and Switch

_Discalimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that it owned by WEP or Paramount. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

_A/N: I apologize again for the lateness between posts. I'm doing the best I can. Unfortunately, this story isn't very high on my priorities list right now._

_Crash, RL2: As always, thanks for the reveiws and support._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 14: Bait and Switch

Four days after Lotor's capture, the _Starship Berlin_, freshly repaired but still scarred by laser burns on her hull, warped out of the Diamond System. The arrangement was simple. The _Berlin _was to transport Lotor to a rendezvous in deep space, alone, away from any star systems claimed either by Doom or the Alliance. Zarkon would send one battleship with the crew of Tango Seven aboard. The exchange would be made by shuttle, and the two ships would return to their own territory under a flag of truce. Very simple.

But Captain Driscoll didn't trust the Doomies one bit. He intended to keep the weapons and shields on standby, in case Zarkon's ship got rowdy. It honestly wouldn't have surprised him. But if the Doom vessel did attack, it would be the last mistake they'd ever make. Repair crews had worked around the clock, guided by the Highland Miracle Worker, and restored the _Berlin_ to full combat-readiness. If the Doom ship tried to pull a fast one, it would be stopped cold.

So, he sat in the command chair, watching the forward screen as the starship traveled at high warp toward the rendezvous, running over the procedure in his mind, and trying to think of every dirty trick the Doom ship might pull. Especially when they discovered what the _Berlin_ and her crew had in store for them.

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The Doom battleship hung motionless in space, in the galactic middle of nowhere. In its throne-like command chair, sat Commander Cossack. After seeing the _Berlin_ run from his battle fleet near Tango Seven, and having heard the reports from the battle fleets that had engaged her, he was confident that he would be able to take on the starship. Once Lotor was safely aboard, of course.

And even if the Federation vessel should prove problematic for his own ship, his cargo could easily take care of it. At first, he hadn't understood why the mysterious coffin ships had been loaded into his cargo bay, but when the witch, Haggar, had come aboard, everything became clear. He was a little disappointed that the glory of destroying the starship would not be his alone, but still, to be commanding the ship that launched the robeast attack was no small honor to his mind.

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"Approaching rendezvous coordinates, Captain," Singh announced.

Driscoll rose from the command chair. "Very well, Lieutenant. Yellow alert, weapons and shields to standby. Mike, reduce to one-half impulse power. Bring us out of warp." He looked to the upper deck of the bridge. "Mordock, is our evil twin out there?"

The Benzite scanned his board before replying, "Yes, sir. I have one Doom battleship bearing one-five mark seven. Their weapons are offline, but their shields are in place."

Driscoll nodded. "Well, tit for tat then. T.J., shields up." He heard the beeps from the tactical console, indicating that Jacobs was carrying out his orders. A moment later, a barely audible electronic hum sounded around the edge of the bridge as the shields came online.

Another chirp sounded from the tactical station behind the command chairs, and Jacobs said, "Enemy vessel is hailing."

"Okay, guys, here we go," Driscoll said. He walked halfway to the helm console and nodded toward the viewer. "Onscreen, Commander."

The image on the screen changed to show a round Drule face. The man it belonged to was a little overweight, and probably carried substantial rank, given the quality and accoutrements of his uniform.

"I am Commander Cossack of the Twenty-Seventh Royal Doom Battle Group."

"Captain Driscoll, _Starship Berlin_," Driscoll replied curtly. "You have the scientists?"

"I do," Cossack replied. There was an edge of indignation in his voice. He resented being spoken to so plainly. Especially by this charlatan boy. "Your people are already aboard a shuttle. As soon as His Highness is safely aboard our ship, they will be released."

"I don't think so, Commander. Our agreement was for a simultaneous exchange."

Cossack nodded. Perhaps the boy wasn't as dull as he'd assumed. "Of course, Captain. Then shall we proceed?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Driscoll replied. He looked at Singh and said, loudly enough for Cossack to hear, "Shuttle cleared for launch. Get 'im going." He watched as Cossack turned aside and said something to someone off screen, and Jacobs reported, "Doom shuttle launching."

Driscoll and Cossack locked eyes as the shuttles carried out their missions. "Shuttle docking commencing," Singh said. The _Berlin_'s shuttle, having nowhere near the capacity it needed to receive the scientists from the larger Doom transport shuttle, would be beaming the scientists directly to the starship as they stepped aboard.

"_Scarecrow _is beginning transport," Singh reported quietly. Several minutes passed as the scientists were transferred to the _Berlin_. Finally, Singh reported that the transfer was complete.

"Very well. Order Lieutenant Falstaff to have the guards escort that blue slime off the shuttle," Driscoll told her.

"Aye, sir," Singh replied, relaying the order.

A few moments later, the operations officer reported that Lotor had been transferred to the Doom shuttle, and that the _Scarecrow_ was on her way back. "Tell Falstaff to hurry," Driscoll ordered. "I wanna get out of here."

No sooner had the shuttle landed than Mordock called out, "Four Doom cruisers inbound on an intercept course!"

"Bearing, Lieutenant?" Gredar demanded.

"Port quarter, bearing two-zero-three."

"Hard a' port, impulse power all ahead one-half," Driscoll ordered. He looked up at the tactical officer. "Make a hole, T.J."

"Aye, sir," Jacobs replied as the Captain settled into his chair. "Torpedoes ready."

"Fire at will," Driscoll replied.

Two photon torpedoes erupted from the _Berlin_'s launch tubes, streaking toward their target. The cruiser second from the left was hit dead on, the explosions sundering its hull as it tumbled away, out of control.

The _Berlin _made for the break in the line, but the other Doom ships were ready. Even as the starship's phasers opened fire, trying to hold their enemies back, the cruisers and the battleship fired back, trying to slow the starship.

As his vessel shuddered under the assault, Driscoll shouted, "Mike, get us outta here!" Normally, he'd have turned to fight, but with a few dozen civilians aboard, he had no intention of it. Slowly the _Berlin _came around, returning fire at the Doom ships, trying to get clear of them long enough to go to warp.

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On the bridge of the Doom battleship, Cossack watched in amusement as the Federation ship struggled to get clear of his own ships. He heard the doors whoosh open behind him, and turned to see Prince Lotor walk onto the bridge, carrying a small, gray box.

Cossack rose and bowed. "Your Highness," he said. "All is ready. Our ships are keeping the _Berlin_ busy, and the robeasts are ready to launch at your command." He noted the box that Lotor was carrying. "What is that, sire?"

"A piece of Federation technology I managed to secret off their ship," Lotor replied. He handed it to Cossack, who flipped it around, end for end, up and down, examining it. The startled gasp he heard from Haggar made him look back at Lotor, who was now upside down on his head! Cossack rotated the box, and watched Lotor spin around. On his side, his feet, on the ceiling, the floor, all the time never changing his pose.

"It's a trick!" Cossack roared. He spun around toward the witch, dropping the holoprojector on the ground. It broke apart, Lotor's image disappearing as he ordered. "Launch your robeasts! Destroy them!"

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"Cossack's ship has launched two coffin ships," Mordock reported.

"Robeasts," Gredar rumbled.

Driscoll nodded and rose. So far, the _Berlin _hadn't been able to break away from the Doom ships. They'd disabled their original attackers, only to be set upon by four more. The lazon missiles the ship's shields had absorbed were taking their toll, and with robeasts on the way, it became imperative that they escape _now_.

"Right full rudder, impulse power, all ahead full," Driscoll ordered. "Course bearing four-five mark twelve."

The ship made a break for a hole in the Doom line. If they could just get past those ships…

Suddenly, a barrage of lazon missiles slammed into the ship, knocking them off course. "Port shields down to seventy percent," Jacobs reported.

Suddenly, something clicked in Driscoll's mind. All this time, the force employed by the Doom ships had been only enough to deflect them from any escape vector they plotted, not to do any serious damage. The Doom ships weren't trying to destroy the _Berlin_, only to prevent her escape.

"They're toying with us, Captain," Gredar said as Driscoll reached the same conclusion.

Driscoll nodded. "Well I for one am nobody's toy. Helm…"

Just then, Mordock burst out, "Robeasts approaching, starboard quarter! Two of them."

"Onscreen," Driscoll said. The viewer shifted, and Driscoll's heart rose into his throat. The starship was faced with not one but two robeasts. One was a dirty white, and resembled a skeleton wearing medieval armor. It's eyes stared out from a Romanesque helmet, visible only as two bright neon blue points. It carried a wicked-looking curved, barb-tipped sword in one bony hand,and in the other it carried a shield half as big as itself, and very thick. The crest on its helmet was made up of a series of knifelike points, and it's armor had similar points sticking out from various locations.

The other robeast was a large, blood-red creature resembling a fish with an alligator's head. It's pointed head had short, finlike blades sticking out the top and above each eye, which were located on the sides of its head. It's mouth was filled with jagged fangs. It's arms and legs sported fins like those on its head on the wrists and ankles. There was a long razor-sharp ridge on its back, and a long tail with a long upper lobe.

The _Berlin_'s bridge crew regarded these new monstrosities with horror and disgust. Driscoll was about to order his ship to come around and deliver a barrage of photon torpedoes, when a new message boomed over the bridge's speakers. "_Leave them to us, Adam. You get those scientists out of here_."

Just then, the cruisers that had been blocking the _Berlin_'s retreat exploded, showering fire and debris across the stars. Through the fireball, the five robot Lions appeared, still holding their daggers in their mouths.

"Captain," Gredar rasped. "I do not believe that Voltron can handle two robeasts at once."

Driscoll regarded the screen, which showed the Lions squaring off with the robeasts. Gredar was right. Voltron would be hard-pressed in this one, but the _Berlin _had to return to Arus. He wouldn't risk the lives of the scientists aboard. The ship had no choice but to flee.

Or did they?

A plan began to form in the captain's mind. "Helm, fall back. Give me some room to launch my fighter." He turned to his hulking, green first officer. "Gredar, you have the ship."

Gredar grunted as Captain Driscoll walked off the bridge, the turbolift doors whooshing shut behind him.

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The five Lions swooped in, crossing in front of the two robeasts, delivering a series of quick slashes with their daggers. The robeasts flinched from the unexpected assault, but were none the worse for it.

"Well, that was productive," Lance quipped as the Lions regrouped.

Keith ignored him, already visualizing the next attack run. "Okay, everyone, let 'em have it!" The Lions rushed in, firing at will with everything they had, blanketing the robeasts in hellfire.

As he approached the knight robeast, Pidge felt Green Lion shudder violently, throwing him hard against his seat restraints as damaged circuits shot sparks across the cockpit. "Aargh!" he screamed, knowing his Lion was caught.

Hunk saw what happened, and his reaction was immediate. "I'm coming, Pidge," he said, guiding Yellow Lion into a sharp turn. The great cat zoomed straight at the knight,which was holding Green Lion in a crushing death-grip. "Laser-fangs!" Hunk called. Yellow Lion's mouth gaped, and it's fangs began to glow and appeared to lengthen. Closing in, the Lion struck, just as intent on freeing its companion as Hunk was. The fangs sunk deep into the robeast's wrist. Howling in pain, the robeast dropped Green Lion, and Pidge wasted no time in vacating the area.

"Whew," Pidge sighed. "Thanks, Hunk."

While Hunk and Pidge were squaring off against the knight, the others had been busy with the gator-fish. After their initial run, Allura had come around and launched a stingray missile attack, striking the robeast in its neck. The creature ducked away, clutching at its neck. While it was distracted, Keith and Lance came in behind it, Keith blasting away with Black Lion's eyebeams while Lance used Red Lion's electro-claws to deliver a series of devastating blows.

Regrouping with the others once more, Keith surveyed the scene, and wasn't surprised to see that aside from thoroughly pissing off the Doom constructs, the attacks had had little effect. _No surprise there,_ the Commander mused.

He was about to initiate the Voltron formation sequence when a familiar voice called out, "_Make way for the Air Force_!" Just then, _Thunderwing_ raced past the Voltron Force formation, its wings laden with rockets and torpedoes. Keith had been wondering when Driscoll would join them.

The Mustang zoomed in on the robeasts, Adam's rock music drifting over the open channel as he hummed, "_Down we dive, spouting our flame from un-der_," He fired his torpedoes at the knight, then adjusted course and blanketed the gator-fish with his rockets. "_Off with one helluva roar_." He swooped out of his run, clearing the gator-fish and rejoining the Voltron Force. "_Nothin' can stop the U.S. Air Force_!"

Finishing his song, he switched over to the _Berlin_'s channel. "Okay, T.J., let 'em have it!" he ordered. On cure, a flurry of photon torpedo and phaser fire erupted from the far side of the robeasts, confusing them again, just as they were recovering from the P-51's attack.

Keith saw his chance. "Okay, team, let's go. Activate interlocks. Dynotherms connected. Infracells up, megathrusters are go."

"Let's go Voltron Force!" the team chorused as the formation sequence began. Keith called out the cadence as the Lions transformed. "Form feet and legs. Form arms and body." Red, Yellow, Green and Blue Lions tucked in their legs and docked with Black Lion. "_Thunderwing_ interface!" The little fighter folded its wings and slid into the opening in Black Lion's back. "And I'll form the head!" Black Lion's mouth opened wide and its ears folded out, forming Voltron's face and helmet. Seconds after entering the transformation sequence, Voltron stood facing the two robeasts.

Recovering from their shock at the sudden attacks from various angles, the robeasts squared off with the Defender of the Universe. Suddenly, the gator-fish spun around, lashing out with its swordlike tail.

"Dodge!" Keith yelled, pulling Voltron back and twisting away from the blow, which glanced off of Yellow Lion.

As Voltron maneuvered to avoid the gator-fish's tail, the knight moved in, its sword raised. Adam noticed this on his sensor display, and immediately called to his ship. "Gredar, take the knight!"

The _Berlin _laid down a withering salvo of phaser fire, making the knight flinch away from Voltron. Knowing Voltron would have a tough time with the two robeasts, Adam had decided to have his ship stay on the edges of the battle, providing cover fire as necessary, with him acting as a forward air controller, calling in his ship's fire as needed.

But he miscalculated. As the starship came in to hit the knight, the gator-fish was able to maneuver behind it, trapping it with Voltron. While the knight regained its composure, the gator-fish closed on the starship.

Keith saw this and reacted immediately. Voltron rushed in, and Lance opened up with Red Lion's torch, scorching the gator-fish's face. "Punch!" Keith yelled, as Voltron's left arm came around and plowed into the robeast's chest, knocking the robeast away from the starship. At the same time, the _Berlin_'s forward phaser turrets sent a searing blast of energy past the robot warrior's head, deterring an attack by the knight from behind. Pidge called out the bearing, and Voltron spun around, letting loose a pair of stingray missiles from his feet.

With the gator-fish a safe distance away, Driscoll called out to Gredar, "Quantum torpedoes, fire!"

A pair of blue energy balls shot from the ship, connecting with the gator-fish's stomach, spinning it around. Seeing an opening, Keith called for Voltron's most powerful weapon. "Form Blazing Sword!" The warrior's hands clasped together, and as they parted, the ribbon of energy between them coalesced into the trident-tipped Blazing Sword. Taking a step back, Voltron raised the sword over its head and issued a mighty roar, then closed to attack the gator-fish.

But the red robeast wasn't through yet. Coming to just in time, it swung it's tail around, and took the end in its hand, which detached to become a sword of its own, which it raised in a single, blindingly fast motion and blocked the Arusian robot's blade.

Meanwhile, the knight, damaged but far from down, closed in to help its comrade. But it wasn't after Voltron this time. Dodging phaser fire, it closed in on the exposed flank of the vessel. Ducking under the starboard nacelle pylon, it struck the side of the hull, slicing through the shield and into the hull, leaving a vicious tear that leaked atmosphere into space.

"Keith, the _Berlin_!" Driscoll yelled, noticing the robeast as it pulled away from its attack, chased by a flurry of phaser fire. The ship was still in the fight, but that was too close.

Kicking the gator-fish away, Voltron spun and closed in on the knight, bracketed by deadly red energy beams from the Federation ship. With no room to turn and fight, it was an easy target for Voltron. "Ready!" Keith yelled, as the sword swung high over Voltron's head. "Slash attack!"

The sword came down in one swift motion, cutting into the robeast's neck before stopping as it wedged in its armor.

The robeast's head lolled to the side as it swung around as though stumbling, swinging Voltron around. Finally, the Blazing Sword was wrenched loose, and Voltron scrambled to get clear as the robeast exploded with such force that the great warrior was sent tumbling, his pilots shaken.

Coming to, Keith looked up in time to see the gator-fish make a run on the _Berlin._ As the starship swung bows-on to the robeast, it hefted its sword and threw it like a spear. The weapon punched through the shields and dug deep into the saucer.

Driscoll's reaction upon seeing this was immediate. "Gredar, come right to bearing two-four-zero, all ahead three-quarters impulse," he ordered. "Warp for home as soon as you're clear." It was time for the ship to run for it.

He watched his ship come around, trying to get out of the spot it had gotten into. As it turned, Voltron rushed in to cover her retreat. Seeing Voltron rushing in, the gator-fish lowered its head and charged. Voltron lowered the blazing sword, preparing to meet his foe head-on.

But the gator-fish had one last trick to play. At the last moment, it ducked down and to the left, biting into Voltron's right leg, Blue Lion, just above its head. Allura's scream pierced the comm channel.

"Allura!" Keith yelled as Voltron rocked side to side, the gator-fish shook its head. It was trying to tear a chunk out of the robot.

"Let's cut this thing loose," said Keith. "Strike!"

Voltron swung the Blazing sword around and in one slice, decapitated the robeast. The body drifted away and the jaws released, the head floating off. The robot warrior just had time to get clear as the whole thing exploded in a blinding flash.

But the fireworks were ignored. Frantically, every one of the Voltron Force members was calling to Allura. She responded to none.

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"Oh, no!" Cossack moaned. "How could this happen?" The robeasts had failed. So had eight of his cruisers, crewed by some of the finest men in his command. The King would not be pleased. Especially when he added to it that Lotor was still in Alliance custody.

"Your ships didn't do their job, Commander," Haggar accused him. "That's how." The blue cat yowled angrily, as if reinforcing his mistress' point.

Cossack's anger flared. He'd been made a fool of. The starship and Voltron should be space dust. But instead, the _Berlin _had escaped, and Voltron was now preparing to attack his command ship.

What was that human proverb about discretion?

Knowing he didn't stand a chance against Voltron, Cossack ordered an immediate retreat. Returning to his command chair, he began crafting his explanation to King Zarkon. Right now, the witch's angry glare was the least of his problem.

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Making his way through crawlspaces in the robot, Pidge arrived in Blue Lion's cockpit just a minute or two after the robeast was destroyed. What he found did nothing to reassure him. A haze of smoke hung in the air, and he could see Allura. She was slumped over in her chair, her hand hanging limply, no longer grasping the control yokes.

Crossing to her in a single stride, Pidge examined her. The visor of her helmet was cracked, and a small trickle of blood extended from the corner of her mouth. But her breathing was steady, though shallow, and her pulse was regular. Still, Pidge knew she needed help. Calling up to Keith, he said, "Allura's hurt bad, Skipper. She's alive, but she needs help pronto."

The report made everybody's stomach do a backflip. Allura was the one person they always strove to bring back safe, and now, she had become their only casualty. But even before Pidge had completed his report, a call for help was already going out to the closest source available.


	15. The Fight During the Flight

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to Paramount or WEP. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except Mordock and Scotty) the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations 

Chapter 15: The Fight During the Flight

Jonathan Andrews looked across the starship's infirmary, watching nurses and orderlies rushing around as they cared for the injuries of the ship's crew and his own people. He'd been surprised how many prisoners of Tango Seven had been released. In addition to the science team, many of the surviving guards had been turned over to the Alliance.

His attention was diverted from his searching by the approach of a man wearing a different type of uniform than the medical staff that were dashing about. This man was tall, wearing a mostly white uniform, with a red mantle across his shoulders and red stripes on his gloves and boots. His long, dark hair hung limp behind his head. Even before he spoke, Andrews knew who he was. The emblem the man wore on his chest told the scientist everything he needed to know.

The Voltron Force commander walked up to Andrews. "I'm Commander Keith of the Voltron Force. You're Dr. Andrews?"

"I am. And I understand we have you to thank for our rescue, Commander," Andrews replied, offering his hand.

"I can't take all the credit, Doctor," Keith replied, shaking the scientist's hand. "How are you feeling?"

Andrews considered a moment before answering, glancing at some of the wounded around him. "Well enough, I suppose. I understand one of yours was injured as well?"

Keith was momentarily taken aback. The reminder of Allura's condition affected him more than he'd have thought. "Yeah, that's right," he muttered back. He forced back the surge of emotion. The guilt, the sense of failure. There'd be time to deal with that later. Reasserting himself, he asked, "Dr. Andrews, do you know how Zarkon found out about your research on the ionized minerals?"

"It could have been any number of ways. He may have broken our codes, he may have been informed by someone else who knew… For all I know, it could have just been dumb luck on his part." He hung his head. "I just wish to God that I could've done something to stop it."

"So you know about the weapon Zarkon developed."

"Which one?"

Keith did a mental double-take. _Which one_? he wondered. After a moment, he recollected his thoughts. "You mean there were more than the lazon missiles?"

Andrews nodded. "Yes, there are." Andrews went on to explain how his people were tortured until they agreed to show Zarkon's men how to decrypt the lab's records and apply the discoveries to their weapons. He'd been astonished how quickly Zarkon's people worked once the data became available. The first examples of the missile were ready for testing in a matter of days. And after the missiles were in the testing stage, the Doom scientists had begun work on enhanced energy weapons and power systems. "Our chance discovery of ionized topaz ended up opening the door to a whole new league of weapons. Unfortunately, Zarkon is the first to capitalize on them."

Keith nodded, and stepped aside as a nurse approached to administer some medication. "Excuse us, Commander, but I have to see to the doctor now," she said.

"We'll continue our conversation later, Commander," Andrews said as the nurse began waving a tricorder over him. Keith nodded, and walked on around sickbay.

The _Berlin_'s sickbay was a circular chamber. Dr. Saladin's office was in the middle, and was enclosed with windows around most of the circumference. The entryway had several chairs, and doubled as a waiting area. Two triage bays encircled Saladin's office, with six beds each. Opposite the main door, on the other side of the office, was a door that led to the operating theater, containment chambers, ICU, and dispensary. Medical labs and the morgue could be accessed from the main corridor or from doors in the left and right triage areas, respectively.

Keith looked through the doorway to the other side of the triage area. Allura lay asleep on a biobed, surrounded by other members of Tango Seven's crew and those of the _Berlin_. The doctors had examined her and declared her to have a mild concussion and some cracked ribs, which had already been healed. However, they did not awaken her, insisting that it was best if she were left to recover consciousness on her own.

He walked up beside her, brushing by a nurse who was attending another patient. He looked down at her deceptively peaceful face, which now displayed none of the bruising he'd been told she'd suffered in her Lion. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was sleeping as she would normally after a long, hard day. He glanced up at the monitor above her bed, which softly beeped and hummed, showing all her vital signs stable.

Keith felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Dr. Saladin behind him. "Yes, doctor?"

Saladin smiled, trying to brighten the situation a little. "She will be fine, Commander," he said. "The Princess will awaken in her own time." He moved to Allura's side and brushed back the shimmering thermal blanket, pulling her hand from beneath it and checking her pulse. The doctor could just as easily have read it from the display above her head, but seemed insistent on personally gauging the Princess' pulse and breathing, then scanning her head and torso with a tricorder.

Nodding, Saladin turned back to Keith. "Just fine, Commander. She just needs rest." He stepped closer to Keith. "I understand how you feel, but I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. There just isn't enough room for you to wait here with her now."

Keith scanned the busy sickbay, and understood the doctor's concern. Even so, every fiber of his being told him not to leave. But again, his soldier's instincts kicked in. Follow orders. Keith nodded, glancing back down at Allura, and walked away.

Moving into the entryway, Keith paused a moment and took out his communicator, calling Lance. His second-in-command was aboard Voltron with Pidge and Hunk, running the robot while he and Allura were away aboard the _Berlin._ The starship and the robot warrior were currently making for Arus at low hyperlight speeds, restricted both by Voltron's waning power and the starship's condition.

Lance answered a second later. "Any word yet, Keith?"

"No, she's still sleeping," Keith replied. "What's your status?"

"Same as it was when you left," said Lance. "We're about two kilometers from the ship, parallel course."

Keith nodded. "Okay, I'm coming back."

"What, you don't trust me?"

Keith knew his second was trying to encourage him to stay, to be there when the Princess woke up. But there was nothing he could do, and just sitting around would drive him nuts. He had to do something, _anything_, to keep his mind off of Allura.

He smiled wryly, acknowledging Lance's veiled attempt at humor. "Like I ever did?" he replied. "I'll be over in a couple minutes. Keith out."

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Captain Driscoll walked out of engineering with Commander Gredar beside him. The two officers had been conferring with Scotty about the ship's condition, which, surprisingly, was not as bad as one might think, considering the hull breach and the sword sticking out of the saucer. Actually, that was about the worst of it.

Stepping aboard a turbolift, Driscoll said, "Sickbay." As the lift started to move, Gredar rasped, "The Princess?" He never turned to look at the Captain when he spoke, instead continuing to face the door. Of course, given his inflexible physique, Driscoll took no offense.

Driscoll nodded. "Yeah. I thought I'd check on her." He paused a moment before looking up at the tall reptilian being. "You did pretty good back there. I'm impressed at how well you were able to fight the ship. Keep it up, and you'll have a command of your own in no time."

"It was my duty, sir." Gredar replied, not understanding why Driscoll would bother saying anything about the battle. Of course he had done well. He was a trained officer. The fact that he and the ship were both still there attested to his competence.

"Dammit, Gredar, can't you lighten up a little for once?" Driscoll said in exasperation. "I thought you might like to know that I see you're doing good. Most people appreciate a little feedback now and then."

"Your approval is obvious, sir," Gredar hissed.

"Computer, hold," Driscoll ordered. The lift halted, and Driscoll turned to face the Gorn. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Godzilla? 'My approval is obvious'?"

"If you did not approve of how I handled the ship, you would not leave me in command," Gredar replied, his slow way of speaking drawing out the sentence for ten seconds.

Driscoll nodded. "Yeah, that's true. But that ain't what I was getting at. Computer, resume." The lift started up again. "If I didn't approve of how you handled the ship, you wouldn't be here, that's for sure. The point I was trying to make was that you showed that you can competently handle the ship in a combat situation, with little or no help from me. I don't have to tell you that that's one of the biggest challenges any captain has to face."

"No, sir."

The turbolift stopped on the deck where sickbay was located, and the doors opened. "We'll talk later, Commander. I'm not done with this conversation."

"Very well, sir." Gredar rasped as Driscoll walked into the corridor. The door closed and Gredar ordered the lift to take him to the bridge.

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Driscoll strode through the doors of sickbay and into the waiting area. He looked around, and saw none of the Alliance people, although a few of his own crewmen were laid out on the biobeds. He turned into one of the triage bays, and made his rounds, talking to the men and women there, offering words of encouragement and thanks for another job well done.

Coming around through the other side, he saw a few Alliance people he hadn't noticed from the doorway. He paused to talk to one who was awake, before moving on to his destination. The second bed from the end of the row.

Dr. Saladin stood by Allura's side, checking her vitals and filling a hypospray.

"How is she, Sheik?" Driscoll asked.

"Ask her yourself," he replied, stepping aside. Adam looked down, and saw Allura looking back at him. Saladin administered the drugs in the hypospray, and returned to his office.

The Captain sat on the empty bed next to the Princess. "How ya feelin', Ally?"

Allura smiled weakly. "I've been better."

Driscoll smiled back. "You gave us a helluva scare, there. You didn't look so hot when Pidge found you."

"Sorry, but a robeast will do that to you."

Adam let out a short chuckle. "Yeah, that they will. You know, we're all gonna be in hot water when we get back to Arus."

"Why?"

"Well, Dr. Saladin called Dr. Gorma to get your medical records, and he had to clear it through Coran, and by now I'm sure Nanny knows, so…"

Allura groaned. She knew exactly where Adam was going with the idea. Whenever Allura came back from a mission with the slightest scratch, it was a week before they heard the end of it. And with Allura returning to Arus in a biobed aboard the _Berlin_, it'd be more like a solid month this time. "Oh, well. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later."

"Maybe." Driscoll replied.

"Where's everyone else?" the Princess asked.

"On Voltron. We beamed you over here, and Keith came after you once we were underway. He's back on Black Lion now."

Allura nodded. "I see." Keith came after her? Maybe… No, that was just like Keith to be the concerned, responsible commander. He'd have come to check on any of the others, if they were in the same situation.

Allura and Adam looked at each other for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say. Finally, Allura said, "Adam, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Why is it you seem to know so much about us? Even when you first arrived, you seemed to know all about us, when we knew nothing about you."

Adam shook his head. "Ally, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Allura replied with a smile.

Adam debated a moment whether to tell her or not. Would she think he was crazy? Or maybe that he was just lying? Or might she even believe him? He didn't know. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Well, have you ever heard of television?"

"That's the forerunner of the viewing nets, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Driscoll replied, not entirely familiar with what a "viewing net" was. But that was a question for another time. "Well, there was a show on there, called 'Voltron.' Where I'm from, this is all a figment of someone's imagination. I've seen the whole story. I could tell you when the Alliance will defeat Zarkon, how Voltron fits into it, every major battle. Everything." He paused. "At least, I used to be able to."

That brief revelation sent Allura's mind reeling. This boy beside her held the key to the defeat of Zarkon and Lotor. The end of the war was within his reach. All he had to do was tell them what to do and when. But then, he could have done that already. Why had he let this go on even this long? Why had he let all those people be killed and injured since he arrived, if he could have stopped it? What was that about he used to be able to?

"What do you mean, 'used to be able to'?"

Adam waited a minute before answering, while he collected his thoughts. "What do you know about physics?"

"A little."

"Have you ever heard of the principle of sum over histories?"

"Yes, but I don't know much about it."

"Well, basically, what it says is that there are many possibilities for things to happen, from how a particle crosses a room to the creation of a universe. Now, whatever you believe as the source of creation from your own understanding or belief, this source, according to sum over histories, made not one, but every possible universe. Within these universes, there are alternate timelines. Different ways things happen to get to the same end. Different dimensions. Okay?"

Allura nodded. "I think so." In truth, she was not all that clear, but she could get the details again later. She just wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Basically, everything that can happen, does. In one universe, I'm sitting here, talking to you. In another, I never opened the wormhole, Earth is gone, and the Dominion is surging through the Federation. In yet another, you're at the castle with your parents, having tea, because Zarkon lost at Zohar, not Alfor."

"And this Voltron program?"

"To you, it's reality. To me, it's a cartoon. But it exists in this dimension, because it is possible for it to exist within the laws of physics. And the way I perceive it, as _part _of it, is different. I see you as flesh and blood, not an illustration. If things were different, I might be the cartoon to you."

Allura shook her head. "Wait, you're losing me. Get back to where you said you know what was going to happen. You mean, you could tell us what Zarkon's going to do next?"

"I used to."

"Why not now?"

"Because there was never any _Berlin_ in the T.V. show. No _Thunderwing_, no Starfleet, no me. By entering this dimension, the _Berlin_ caused a new timeline to come into being. Things are totally different now. Some things may still happen, but I don't know what. Like, according to what I know, none of the battles since I arrived should have happened. And several that should have happened haven't. We shouldn't have Lotor locked up in the Castle. And like I said, I shouldn't even be here."

"So you can't tell us anything?"

"No. This is a whole new ball game. Even if I were to leave now and never return, the damage is done. What I know, except on the most basic level, no longer exists in this timeline."

Allura lay back, contemplating what he had just said. In another dimension, everything she knew as reality was somebody's dream? Was there a place where her dreams were real? And by coming to this dimension, and all the good that had happened from it, Adam and his crew had also prohibited their own prediction of events they should have known everything about? It was overwhelming. Finally, she looked up at him. "And that's your power? You can travel between these dimensions and timelines, whenever you want?"

Driscoll nodded. "Yeah. Gift and curse all at once. I'm the uncertainty principle incarnate."

"The what?"

"More physics, Ally. I'll explain another time."

Allura nodded. That's the last thing she needed now was _another_ physics lesson. But then, one question came to her lips. "Will we stop Zarkon?"

Adam regarded her for a long moment. He didn't know how to answer. He couldn't be sure. But then, as he thought about his answer, he knew. He knew somehow, with a mysterious certainty. "Yeah, we'll win."

Allura smiled and looked over at Dr. Saladin, who was approaching the pair. "Excuse me, Captain, but the Princess needs her rest."

"Sure, Sheik." Driscoll rose and stood by Allura's side. He smiled and said, "Doctor's orders, Ally. I'll see you later." He reached down and took her hand.

Allura smiled, squeezing his hand in hers. "All right. Let me know when we get to Arus."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Adam replied with a bow. He nodded to the doctor and walked out of sickbay.

As he headed to the turbolift, he mentally berated himself. _Yeah, smooth one, Driscoll. "Duh, yeah, Allura, you don't exist. This is all a cartoon."_ _Whatever happened to a get well card and some flowers? What do you give her? Physics lessons and shattered dreams. Idiot._ _Well, at least you should know to back the hell off. Alternate timeline or no, she's meant to be with Keith. Disengage while you can._

As the turbolift doors opened, Driscoll was surprised to find himself face-to-face with Keith himself. The Voltron Force Commander stopped a moment and asked, "She's awake?"

"Yeah, the Sheik's with her now."

"You talk to her?"

"Yeah, I stopped by," Driscoll added, almost defensively.

Keith nodded. "Listen, can we talk a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." The officers stepped back into the turbolift and the doors closed. Driscoll ordered the car to hold position and looked at Keith. "Whassup?"

"Look, I suppose that this is my fault for not telling you earlier, but the guys and I have a rule. Because of who Allura is, and who we are, we made an agreement not to let ourselves get romantically involved with her in any way. We're pilots, and we can't have those kind of feelings clouding our judgment in battle. And as her guardian knights, it wouldn't be appropriate." He spoke the last few words with a particular emphasis.

The argument Keith made was sensible enough. But the look in his eyes conveyed an underlying meaning. Driscoll had seen it before, in battle. There was a threat in his hard gaze. Keith was doing more than filling Driscoll in. He was warning the Captain off.

Driscoll's anger flared, and his own gaze narrowed. He could understand Keith's reasoning, but he'd be damned if he'd allow himself to be cowed like that, especially on his own ship! "That's very noble of you Keith, and it's a very logical idea. But I have a better one. Let Allura decide. If she happens to like one of us, what's the harm? It's her life, and she should be able to do what she wants."

"Adam," Keith said with a firmer tone. He knew that Driscoll saw the underlying meaning of his words. Now he had to make them stick. "I'm not kidding. If you or I were to become involved with Allura…"

"What? She might have someone to stand by her? Someone she can talk to? I mean, God forbid we should treat her as anything but a little china doll in a glass case. She's human too, with as much free will and ambition as any of us. Let her live her own life, Keith. Coran and Nanny sure as hell don't, and you're not much better. Every one of you is so busy telling her what she's gotta do, nobody stops to ask what she wants to do."

That stung. Keith had always done all he could, or thought was appropriate, to help Allura. He helped her learn to fly Blue. He helped keep Nanny and Coran off of her back so she _could_ fly. He'd made it his personal responsibility to see that she came through every mission safely. And now to hear this kid accusing him of stifling her… It put him on a slow burn. What right did Driscoll have to question his dedication and loyalty to Allura?

And he found her utterly amazing. Besides her beauty and charm, she was brilliant and fearless, and a natural pilot. Kind and compassionate, but fiercely defensive of her people and loyal to her comrades in battle. Such a combination was hard to find in anyone.

"Well someone has to. In case you haven't noticed, she doesn't always remember that she's a princess, and that she has a lot of responsibilities. If we let her, she'd take on Doom single-handed, and she just doesn't have that luxury. You have your ship and crew, I have the team, but that's nothing compared to what she has to take care of. Any one of us is expendable, but I have to keep reminding her that she's not." As soon as the words left his mouth, Keith regretted saying them. It was the wrong argument to make.

"Keith, in case you haven't noticed, she's very lonely. She's got next to nobody to talk to. I mean _really_ talk to. The guys are too scared of having Nanny or Coran on their backs if they get caught with her. And you won't, because you don't think it's proper. And there are some things she just doesn't want to confide in Nanny or Coran."

"Like what?" Keith asked.

Driscoll snorted. "Yeah, like I'm gonna tell you," he rebuffed. The two commanders stared at each other, both knowing that the other wouldn't back down. "Keith, I said I'd follow your orders in battle, and I will. But other than that..." he paused. "You tell the others how to live all you want, but don't think for one minute that you have that power over me. Open doors."

The turbolift doors opened, and Keith stepped out, continuing to challenge Driscoll with his eyes until the doors closed again.

Driscoll slumped back against the wall of the lift. "Bridge," he mumbled, and the lift started to move. What had just happened? Did he just declare war on Keith? No, not war, at least, not completely. What was he thinking? This was a friend he was talking about. A colleague. A fellow pilot.

Yeah, one who had just tried to tell him he had no business talking to Allura.

But then, wasn't that what was supposed to happen? Allura and Keith get together, fall in love, the whole shebang? That's what happens.

No, that's what happens in the other timeline. Here and now, things were different. Hadn't he told Allura that he didn't know what would happen, and that everything he knew no longer applied? He was never in the timeline he knew about, so maybe…

He stood up and straightened his uniform. To hell with it. This was a whole new deal, and it was just the first hand. If Allura chose Keith after all, then that's what happened. He'd step aside and let it be. But until then, he had no intention of backing off just because Keith said so. It was for Allura and Allura alone to decide what she wanted, and neither fate, nor timelines, nor Keith Mendoza would change that.

_Disengage while you can? Screw that._

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Keith walked into sickbay, and looked at Allura, lying in bed. Dr. Saladin was just stepping away from her, and he saw Keith walk in. He came over to the Voltron Force leader. "I am sorry, Commander," he said, "but I have just given her a sedative to help her sleep. She cannot see anyone now."

Keith harrumphed. Convenient. As soon as Adam leaves…

Keith stopped himself. No, it wasn't like that. It was just chance. The doctor didn't care who wanted to see Allura. He only cared about what Allura needed to help her get well. It was his own tough luck. Just like always.

He nodded to the doctor, and asked to be informed if she woke up again. Saladin agreed, and Keith stepped back into the hall. Heading for the transporter room, he thought back on what had just happened. He knew that he and Adam both felt the same way about Allura. He also knew that there was a new dynamic in the team structure. He wouldn't let it affect his own performance, but he couldn't be sure about Adam. Would the Captain still work with them, or would his grudge make him a wild card? He couldn't allow that to happen. The situation with Allura aside, he had to know for sure whether or not he could still count on Adam.


	16. Nor Iron Bars

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to Paramount or WEP. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except Mordock and Scotty) the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

_Thanks a lot to RedLion2 and welcome back Crash77A. It's been a while. Anyhoo, this one's almost done (finally). Probably within the next chapter or so, I'll be bringing it to a close, and it'll be on to other things. So, without further ado…_

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 16: Nor Iron Bars

Prince Lotor sat in his cell, contemplating how he might escape. Despite its primitive form, the cell he was being held in was well-constructed. Located in one of the remnants of the old palace, the dungeon was composed of walls of hardened brick at least a foot thick. There were no windows, and the door to the cell was two inches of solid steel on the bottom half, and bars an inch thick at the top. It was secured by five mechanical locks, as well as a forcefield and two magnetic shackles. A guard was posed in the hall opposite the door, and he was willing to bet that there were other guards nearer the exit.

The odds were definitely not in his favor. Finally, he resigned himself to the fact that there was little he could do to affect an escape on his own, at least under present conditions. For now, patience would prove to be his strongest ally.

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"Approaching Arus, Captain," Lt. Mordock announced.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Driscoll acknowledged. "Mike, slow to one-quarter impulse power, standard orbit."

"One-quarter impulse, standard orbit, aye."

As the starship settled into orbit above Arus, Driscoll looked around the bridge. He could see the stress of the past week in the faces of his crew. In his book, they'd earned a rest. He leaned over to his first officer and quietly said, "Commander, I think some shore leave is in order after the last couple of weeks we've had. Coordinate with Captain Scott and set up a rotation schedule for leave and repairs."

"Aye, sir," Gredar rumbled.

"And make sure you're name's on that list. That's an order." Since the ship left spacedock, Gredar hadn't taken a single hour off aside from his normal duty rotation. He was the only member of the crew to have done that, and Driscoll knew the Gorn had to be at least as tired as the rest of them.

Gredar grunted a noncommittal reply.

"Skipper, Commander Keith is hailing," Jacobs reported.

"Onscreen."

Keith appeared on the forward viewer and wasted no time on social niceties. "We've got a problem, Adam. Allura's in no shape to fly, and we've got to land Blue Lion."

"Yeah, I'd call that a problem," Adam replied honestly. "Can't you just detach Blue and come back for her later?"

Keith shook his head. "Between the damage and how long we've been combined into Voltron, Blue's power won't last ten minutes once we split up."

That was a bigger problem. Allura probably wouldn't be able to fly for several days yet, and they didn't dare just leave Voltron sitting out for days. By then, all his power would be gone, and he'd be a sitting duck. Someone had to fly Blue.

"Okay, hold on a minute. I'll get back to ya."

Keith nodded, and the screen returned to the image of the planet below. Driscoll rose and headed for the turbolift. "Gredar, you have the bridge," he tossed over his shoulder. Stepping onto the lift, he said, "Sickbay."

The lift discharged him on deck five, a few yards walk from sickbay. When he arrived, Allura was sitting on the side of her bed, tugging on her gloves, speaking excitedly with Dr. Saladin.

"Princess, you are not fit to fly," the doctor was saying. "Your injuries require more time to heal. It has barely been a day."

"Doctor, I have to land my Lion, and that's that." Allura was in full "princess mode." Her tone and body language indicating that her mind was made up, and would not be changed.

"But Your Highness, you don't understand," Saladin continued. "Your reflexes are not as fast as they need to be. Our vision and hearing are still affected by the concussion."

"A little ringing in my ears won't stop me from flying."

At that point, Driscoll stepped in. Laying a hand on Saladin's shoulder, he said, "Sheik, it's a five-minute flight. Just landing, no combat."

"Captain, she is not fit to fly at all."

"Adam, I feel fine," Allura protested.

"Sheik, the problem's bigger than you think," Driscoll said. "Allura's the only one who can land Blue Lion. If she don't get that Lion down within ten minutes after Voltron breaks up, it'll lose power and auger."

"I'm sorry, Adam, but my decision cannot be changed."

"What if I didn't fly?" Allura asked. "What if I were a passenger?"

The two men looked at her skeptically. Saladin was amazed at her stubbornness, and Adam was surprised by her statement. She loved flying Blue. For her to give up the pilot's seat was unconscionable. "What do you mean?" Driscoll asked.

"You could fly, and I'll talk you down."

Saladin shook his head. "You still cannot take the g-load of reentry."

Allura threw her hands up and huffed in exasperation.

"Wait, Sheik. If we let Keith take Voltron down, then beam in for landing, is that okay?"

Saladin thought a moment, scratching his mustache, then sighed. "Yes, I suppose so."

Adam and Allura exchanged smiles. "Meet me in transporter room one in five minutes," Adam said. Allura nodded, and the two left sickbay.

Saladin watched them go, shaking his head.

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When Adam old Keith the plan for getting Blue Lion down, the Voltron Force leader was skeptical. And he was worried. Adam had never flown a Lion, and Allura would be neither in a position or condition to take over if something went wrong. It was exactly the kind of idea where there were more ways to fail than succeed.

Still, it was the only idea they had.

So he began taking Voltron down into Arus' atmosphere. The robot was engulfed in a massive fireball as he descended, and began to shake as gravity pulled him down, and increasing atmospheric density resisted his movement. The g-forces slowly mounted. Three g's, four g's, five. . .

The strain peaked at eight g's, pinning the pilots to their seats as a fiery yellow glow filled their cockpits. Even after centuries of spaceflight, reentry still felt much like it did in the early days.

Finally, the glow faded, and the shaking eased. Keith guided Voltron into an upright position eight miles above the ground.

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Adam and Allura stood on the transporter pad, waiting for Keith's signal. Adam had stopped by the shuttlebay to grab his jacket and helmet from his plane.

Allura turned to him. "You'll want to duck before we beam over. The cockpit's not all that high."

Adam nodded. "Right."

"Ten seconds," the transporter operator warned.

The pilots nodded their understanding. "Don't worry about the controls too much," Allura reminded her companion. "Just focus on the control yoke and pedals. I'll guide you through the rest."

Adam nodded again, clenching and unclenching his hands as his palms began to sweat.

"Commander Keith is hailing. They're ready," the transporter operator announced.

"Okay," Driscoll replied. He crouched and looked at Allura, who was also crouched down. She nodded, and he looked back and the tech. "Okay, Hannigan. Energize."

Allura watched Ensign Hannigan punch a few buttons, then slide his hand up the console. She heard the hum and felt the tingling sensation, and a moment later she was standing in Blue Lion's cockpit.

Adam and Allura quickly took their positions, Adam in the pilot's seat, and Allura in the fold-out jumpseat behind him. As he settled in, Adam felt a curious sensation fill him. But he had no time to focus on it as Keith's face appeared on the small comm screen. "Ready, Adam?"

"You bet," he said.

"Allura?"

"Ready, Keith."

"Okay, here we go." There was a loud _clang_, and Blue Lion fell away toward the ground. Adam braced himself for any unexpected gyrations or torque effects, but there were none. Instead, he pulled back ever so gently on the control yoke, and the Lion pulled up. Allura was right. It was more like guiding the Lion, as one would a horse, than flying a machine. He scanned the monitors, looking for some sign of the legs having deployed, but there was none. Sensors, power readouts, navigational instruments, and dozens of buttons and switches were all he saw. But somehow, he knew everything was right. HE just had the feeling that all was as it should be. And more, there was a sensation of great power at his fingertips. A barely-restrained, raw, savage power of a magnitude he'd never known, just begging to be unleashed. And he wanted to unleash it, very badly.

_Whoa, baby, I'd love to take this kitty out for a spin._

But the controls didn't seem quite as fluid as Allura had described. There was a hesitance, almost as if the Lion were resisting. As he set course for the Castle of Lions, he mentioned that to Allura.

"Yes, Blue Lion _is_ resisting you. It knows you're not me. But it follows your commands, because I'm here."

"Does that have something to do with the Lions' magic?"

"Yes. I'm not sure exactly how it all ties together though."

Adam nodded, then looked forward. The view was like that of a bomber's cockpit, with limited visibility to the sides, and none upward or back. Sliding Blue Lion in on Lance's flank, Adam was surprised to hear Keith say, "Forget the approach formation, Adam. Land and get Allura to the castle."

"Roger that," Driscoll replied.

As they approached the moat, Allura guided him in. "All right, Adam, slow down now," Adam nudged the throttle back. "More… Now dive down into the water."

Driscoll thought she was nuts, but complied. The great cat dove into the water, it's paws stretched ahead of it like an Olympic high-diver, and leveled off just beneath the surface.

"Okay, now steer a little to the right… Good. There's the landing pad." Allura pointed down and ahead.

"Yeah, I got it." Adam glanced at the power gauge, which had been low in the red, but now seemed to have risen a few points. Odd.

"As you approach, slow down… that's it. Now turn left to face the outer bank, pull up and let the Lion settle."

Following her instructions, Adam guided the Lion in for an easy touchdown. Adam looked over his shoulder at the Princess. "Piece a' cake," he said with a smile.

Allura smiled back. "Not bad for a beginner," she replied. Before Adam could reply, the pilot seat and its attached jumpseat slid backward out of the cockpit and descended into a tram car, which took them into the castle. They traveled upward through a long tube, hanging from a bar. They then passed through a forcefield that changed Allura's flight suit into the pink jumpsuit she'd been wearing before she left the palace, but left Adam's clothing untouched.

Finally, the bar lift stopped, and the two stepped out of the launch tube into Castle Control. The rest of the team followed a moment later.

"Princess! Are you all right? What has this hooligan done to you?" Nanny gushed, running up to Allura. Dr. Gorma and Coran followed behind, along with a nurse pushing a wheelchair.

Adam stepped aside and let Nanny fuss over the Princess, remembering his promise to Allura that he'd patch things up with the governess.

"Nanny, I'm fine," Allura was saying. "Adam didn't do anything to me." She mentioned how he'd flown the Lion down with her guidance from the jumpseat. Nanny regarded the Captain with a cold look, then resumed her fussing.

As Allura, Nanny, and the medical staff left the Control Room, the boys got an update from Coran. Nothing noteworthy had happened while they'd been gone. A message had arrived from Starfleet Command that the delivery of the first part of the starbase had been pushed up, and that the core would arrive the next day.

Pidge took over the watch from Coran, and the group broke up. On the way out of the Control Room, Keith stopped Adam in the corridor. "Make it fast, Keith, I've got a lot to do," Adam warned. After what had happened aboard the _Berlin_, he didn't particularly feel like talking to Keith, but was willing to extend him at least professional courtesy.

Keith bristled at Driscoll's coarse remark, but restrained himself. "I'm not apologizing for what I said yesterday. But it wasn't personal."

Adam was about to express his doubt in no uncertain terms, when an alarm rent the air, and warning lights flashed.

The two commanders looked at each other and spoke in unison, "Dungeon." Their differences swept aside by the call of duty, Keith and Adam raced for the depths of the castle.

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"It's about time you showed up, witch," Lotor said as Haggar appeared outside his cell door. The guard who'd been posted by the door now lay dead, struck down by one of Haggar's dark spells.

"Well, I would have been here sooner, but the traffic was murder," the witch quipped sarcastically. Lotor rolled his eyes. "Spare me your humor and open the door."

The witch raised her hand toward the lock, which began to glow a faint green color, before the door swung open with a loud _clank_. Lotor stepped out and walked over to the small locker where his weapons were stored. Retrieving them, he activated his laser sword and looked around. Satisfied that the other guards in the area were not yet aware of his escape, he motioned to Haggar and the two headed down the corridor toward the exit.

Anticipating Lotor's question, Haggar said, "We must teleport out from the same place I entered. Patience, My Liege."

Suddenly, they heard an alarm blare. Lotor didn't have to wonder what was happening. His absence had been noticed.

Just as the alarms started, the castle shook, and a muffled boom that was felt more than heard, resounded from several levels above. "That would be Cossack," said Haggar.

Lotor nodded as he broke into a run. Two guards came around a corner at the far end of the corridor, lowering their blasters as they warned, "Halt or we shoot!"

Haggar stunned the first guard with a spell, while Lotor dispatched the other with a slash. The two barely broke stride during the attack, rounding the corner the guards had just passed, only to hear, "Hold it, assholes." There in front of them stood Commander Keith and Captain Driscoll, weapons ready and aimed at the villains' heads.

Lotor glared defiantly at h is enemies, sword at the ready. "Stand aside," he commmanded.

Driscoll thumbed a lever on the back of his weapon, and Lotor heard a whine as the power setting amped up. "Go to hell."

"You first," Lotor spat, lunging at Adam as Haggar's blue cat leaped at Keith from an air duct in the ceiling above, knocking his weapon aside. Lotor's fist connected with Adam's jaw and the captain fell back, stunned. Lotor swung at Keith as he passed, but the commander deflected the sword blow with the barrel of his blaster.

Keith dropped his damaged blaster to the floor and knelt beside Adam as Lotor and Haggar ran off. The dazed starship captain waved him off. "F'get it. Go gettum," he slurred, holding his phaser out to Keith. "Point 'n shoot."

Keith took the pistol and charged off after the escaping prince and witch. As he ran, he pulled his communicator from his belt. "Coran, this is Keith. Lotor's escaped. He and Haggar are heading for ammo bunker three-alpha. Send backup. And send a medical team down to the dungeons, we've got wounded."

"Acknowledged," said Coran.

Keith sprinted sown the corridor, hearing a few blaster shots as he ran, knowing his quarry wasn't far ahead. Coming around a corner, he glimpsed them just ahead as they disappeared into the ammunition bunker. Keith ran up to the door, stopping just short and flattening himself out against the wall. Silently, he counted to three, then swept into the room. He scanned left and right, but saw no one.

Lotor and Haggar were gone. But they left a parting gift. Stacked up against a row of missile warheads was what appeared to be a small explosive device, attached to which was a soccer-ball-sized container of ionized-topaz-enriched lazon. Enough to turn the castle into a smoking hole in the ground.

Keith dropped Adam's phaser and began examining the device. It was extremely complicated, well beyond his ability to defuse. Finally, he found the timer, and for the first time, he was afraid.

They had less than four minutes.

Pulling his communicator from his belt, he called the control room. "Coran, we've got a problem."

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Safely aboard his command ship, Lotor surveyed the activity on the bridge. While Haggar was breaking him out, Cossack had been attacking the castle and nearby villages to distract the Arusians' attention from the jailbreak. Now, the fighters were laying down a screen of suppressive fire while the command ship rose into the sky.

"Ready to recall the fighters, Sire," a droid soldier reported.

"No, redirect attack to the villages. These puny weaklings will pay for their insolence. Nobody treats me like a common thief and gets away with it!" Lotor replied with venom.

The fighters angled away from the castle and moved in on a village to the south, strafing everything in sight. The castle's defensive guns ceased fire so they wouldn't damage the village. But ruby beams were sprouting from the ground like fiery vines as the Starfleet engineers returned fire as best they could with their hand phasers.

Suddenly, the command ship shook violently, throwing several crewmen to the deck. "What was that?" Lotor demanded.

"We're being fired on by the _Berlin, _Sire," Cossack replied. "Shields failing. We're taking heavy damage!"

"Blast it all!" Lotor growled angrily. He was hot for revenge, but now he had no time. "Retreat!" he ordered. "Back to Planet Doom." On his order, the command ship sped up and away, jinking and weaving as the fighters rose from the village to attack the starship in a suicidal effort to cover Lotor's retreat.

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The alert lights were still flashing when Allura rushed into Castle Control, with Nanny following close behind. "What's happening, Coran?" she asked. On her way up from the infirmary, she'd heard talk of a bomb in one of the castle's magazines.

Coran nodded at one of the monitors. "See for yourself, Highness."

Allura looked at the monitor, where the boys were working feverishly to disarm the bomb, which was attached to a group of missile warheads. "How long do we have?"

"Two minutes, thirty-seven seconds."

"We have to evacuate the Castle," said Nanny.

Allura nodded. "Coran, have the guards start evacuation procedures." She knew it was futile, that with the amount of explosives involved, there was no way anyone would be able to get to a safe distance in time. But it was better than sitting around waiting.

"Come, Princess, we must go," Nanny urged, edging toward the door.

"No, Nanny, I'm staying here," Allura said calmly, turning back to the screen. She wouldn't abandon the boys. They'd always stood by her, and she wasn't about to leave them.

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"One twenty-seven, Keith," said Lance.

"Hunk? Pidge? What's the word?"

"Almost there, Keith," Hunk replied.

Keith's eyes flitted nervously between the timer and the men working to defuse the device. It was his only outward sign of unease.

A moment later, Adam came stumbling in. He took one look at the situation and the corner of his mouth quirked down. "Yikes."

Just then, Pidge jumped up. "Got it!" he announced. The group stared at the timer, frozen at fifty-three seconds.

Then, it ticked down…

And kept going.

"Shit!" Driscoll blurted.

"Redundant timing circuits," Lance said. "Gotta give him points for preparation."

Keith looked at the youngest member. "Pidge, can you get the bomb off the warheads?"

"I can try," Pidge replied.

Pidge and Hunk started scouring the device, trying to figure out how it attached to the warheads. "Looks like some kind of magnetic connection," Hunk said. He looked closer at the shackles. "Oh, no. Pressure switch! If we take it off, it'll blow."

"We have to chance it. Adam, we'll need your help, too."

Adam nodded as Keith quickly described his idea.

Twenty seconds… fifteen…twelve…

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"Detonation in progress," a droid soldier reported.

Lotor smiled. His ship was just leaving the Diamond system, en route to Planet Doom. "Show me," he demanded.

The screen at the front of the bridge displayed a magnified view of Arus, with the _Berlin_ hanging in orbit. Visible just in front of the ship, a fireball bloomed, then slowly faded.

Right where the Castle of Lions used to be.

Lotor's smile broadened into a grin. "So much for the Voltron Force," he said.


	17. No Fat Lady Yet

_Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to Paramount or WEP. What I do own are the crew of the _Berlin_ (except Mordock and Scotty) the fighter, _Thunderwing_, and the story itself._

Star Tron: Escalations

Chapter 17: No Fat Lady Yet

"Way to go, guys," Allura said as the five pilots walked into the control room. They headed over to the main console, where Coran nodded his agreement. "Very well done, indeed."

"Got a little hairy there for a second," Hunk said.

Allura smiled. "You did great," she said, and kissed him and Pidge on the cheek, leaving both men blushing.

The Princess turned to the Captain. Seeing the darkening bruise on his face, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Low-Blow suckered me. Speaking of which…" he turned to Keith, "Can I get my gun back, dude?" Keith returned the weapon, and Driscoll shoved it back into his holster as Lance said, "Too bad we couldn't save any of that topaz."

There were muttered agreements from the assembly, and after a moment, Coran cleared his throat. "Well, it seems we've all had quite the eventful day. Perhaps some rest would be in order."

"Yes, you have all earned some time off," said Nanny. She turned to Allura. "And you, young lady, should go back to the infirmary. Dr. Gorma wasn't finished with you."

"Yes, Nanny," Allura said with a sigh, deciding that this one wasn't worth fighting.

"If you don't mind, Nanny," said Driscoll, "I'll walk her down. I wanted to have the doctor see what he can do about this while I'm at it." He touched the black bruise on his chin.

Nanny was about to issue one of her usual retorts, but then decided against it. The boy was finally acting somewhat respectful, for once. And she did need to see to dinner. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Very well. But no funny business!"

"No, ma'am," Driscoll replied. Allura took her leave of the others, and the two left the Control Room.

As they walked through the corridors toward the infirmary, neither said a word. As the silence threatened to become awkward, Adam asked, "Allura, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes, of course." Allura said, looking at him as they walked.

Adam scanned the corridor, and noticed a seemingly unoccupied maintenance corridor off to one side. He led her into it, and stood there a moment, looking at her, his stomach doing loops.

_Okay, fly or die_… "Um, well…" he paused, took a deep breath, then started again. "Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I like you. A lot. And I'd like to see more of you, you know, outside of flying. Really get to know you. I mean, I know I'm no prince, but…" he trailed off, feeling simultaneously hopeful and incredibly stupid. What the hell was he doing?

Allura was silent a moment, unsure how to answer. _He likes me? Why wouldn't he? We're friends…_ Then as she suddenly realized what Adam was trying to say, she smiled at the pilot. But it wasn't the mocking sort of smile Adam had been expecting. "Well, it took you long enough to say so."

Driscoll was dumbfounded. He stammered a moment, finally able to get out a pathetic, "Huh?"

"You don't do a very good job of hiding it," she said. "I've seen the way you look at me, and the way you talk to me and seem to find any excuse to hang around here. I'm not stupid, you know."

"No, of course not, I never…"

Allura held up her hand to silence his rambling. "I like you too. I've been thinking a lot, about a lot of things." She sighed. "You probably know that Nanny's been trying to marry me off almost since she returned to the castle."

"Yeah. She's bound, set, and determined to see the royal line reestablished."

Allura nodded, her gaze getting momentarily distant. "It's hard. I'm not ready to get married, and when I do, I don't want it to be for politics. I want to marry a man I love. But suitor after suitor just keeps showing up. Most of them just want to own Voltron. The rest look at me as a trophy or a charity case.

"I, my planet, and my people are not charity cases, nor are we trophies," Allura continued, her eyes burning for a moment. Then her gaze softened as she looked at Adam again. "You're a good person, Adam, and a good friend. I trust you, and I like being around you. That matters more than your title."

"So you'll go out with me?" he prodded.

Allura looked at him, smiling coyly. "Well, that depends on what you had in mind."

"Well, uh, you like movies?"

"Yes, I do."

"Great, so, if you're not too busy Thursday night, we're doing a movie night on the ship. I don't know what's showing, but I was thinking…" he shrugged and twirled his hand in the air.

Allura smiled. "It sounds like fun. I'd love to."

"Great," Adam said, also smiling. "Awesome. So I'll come to get you around five-ish then?"

Allura nodded. "Sure. And you'd better not be late, Captain."

"Of course not, My Lady," Adam replied with a bow. They walked out of the maintenance corridor, and continued on to the infirmary. "Well, here we are."

"Aren't you going in?"

"Nah. After the hard time we gave him today, I figure I owe the Sheik an opportunity for some payback. I'll see you tomorrow at practice."

"Sure," Allura replied. She smiled her goodbye, and walked into the infirmary.

And she wasn't the only one smiling. Captain Driscoll, with a big, dumb grin on his face, whistled his way down to the main gate, where he beamed back to his ship.

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_Captain's Log, stardate 51380.2: The first part of the starbase, the core module, arrived early this morning. Too bad it's only going to be one of those office-type bases for now. Oh well. We do get a bonus, though. Until the station's weapons are installed and put online, the base will be guarded by the _U.S.S. Timberwolf, _a new _Defiant_-class ship, which means we're still free to go after bad guys._

_Meanwhile, the _Berlin_ is under repair, again. One of these days, we'll get through a fight without needing a refit afterward. Pidge and Hunk have suggested replacing our defunct aft phasers with ion dart launchers, which would make a hell of a point-defense system against those missiles. They're working on adapting power connections and installation procedures now. It's worth mentioning that even Scotty's impressed with their work. Those guys are damn good._

_Dr. Andrews has begun working on reproducing some of the ionized topaz. Without his notes, it's going to be slow work, but I've given him access to the _Berlin_'s science labs, and with the scans of the topaz from the transporter log when we beamed that bomb out of the Castle of Lions, he should be able to do it. At least, I hope so. I'd hate to think the Blue Boys could keep that kind of advantage over us._

Driscoll deactivated the log recording and sat back in his chair, looking out his ready room window at the starbase. The past couple of weeks had been really crazy. New weapons, incursions, capturing Lotor, Lotor escaping… he still couldn't believe that only two weeks had passed. It felt more like two months.

But still, one thing was certain: The war had definitely changed, and things were going to get a whole lot tougher before they'd get any easier.

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Pidge took a bite of his sandwich and lazily scanned the sensor boards, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Not that he was complaining. The past week had been plenty eventful enough, and he sincerely hoped they'd seen the last of Lotor for a while.

He looked at the sensors again. The _Berlin,_ the starbase, the _Timberwolf_… nothing else. As he looked around, his eyes fell on the small holoprojector on the side of the console, and he smiled, remembering how effective his Sandwich Security System was in defending his munchies.

Suddenly, there was a commotion on the other side of the room. Pidge's head snapped around to the source of the disturbance, to see an access panel had fallen away from an electronics maintenance port. He got up from the console and headed over to the panel to put it back. As he walked, he didn't see four small creatures scurry out from the back wall toward the console.

It took only a second to put the panel back in place, but when Pidge turned around, he nearly had a heart attack.

There, beside the console, stood Prince Lotor.

"Whaaaaaaa!" Pidge exclaimed, diving for the alarm button. A second later, the sirens blared and red lights flashed across the control room. He smiled. "Gotcha now, Lotor!"

But the Doom Prince didn't move. Pidge walked slowly forward, blaster trained on the Prince's head. "Surrender!" he ordered.

Lotor didn't so much as twitch.

The other members of the Voltron Force burst into the room, and when he saw Lotor, Lance fired. The beam struck the Prince in the shoulder…

And passed right through, striking the wall on the far side of the chamber.

Lance looked at his blaster in confusion as Keith yelled, "Hands on your head, Lotor!"

Pidge crept around the console toward the others. As he passed, he saw a small light blinking on his holoprojector. He looked toward the mouse hole in the wall just in time to see his sandwich disappear into it. "WHY YOU LITTLE…"

The boy dove toward the hole, shoving his arm in up to the elbow, thrashing around. "Gimme my sandwich, you little varmints!"

Coran deactivated the alarm as the others realized what was going on. Keith walked over to the projector and shut it off, watching the fake Lotor vanish in an electronic shimmer.

Allura and the others watched Pidge flail about for a few more seconds before finally giving up. Seeing the dejected look on the poor boy's face, they couldn't help but snicker at his predicament. "Looks like they got you again, little buddy," Hunk chuckled.

Lance walked up beside him and helped him up. "Hey, don't sweat it. It's not everyone who can say they've been outsmarted by mice," he said, with barely-restrained mirth.

Pidge shot him an angry glance, then looked back at the mouse hole, where Cheddar stood making faces at him and dancing in triumph.

Enraged, Pidge shook his fist at them and shouted, "Just wait! You'll get yours, you sandwich-napping mice!"

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On Planet Doom, Haggar and Lotor stood before Zarkon, who had just received word that the Castle of Lions was, contrary to his son's report, still whole.

"I gave you enough lazon and ionized topaz to turn the Castle of Lions into a smoking cinder!" the King raged. "All you had to do was put it in the magazine, and you failed even this simple task. You bumbling idiots! The only one who did his job right was Cossack."

That was a blow to Lotor's ego, who knew that Cossack's notable successes were attributable more to dumb luck than to real aptitude. Ever mindful of his own failures, Lotor protested, "What could you have expected of me? You sent Haggar to help me escape, and I did! She planted the bomb."

"You're right. What should I have expected of you, with your record against the Voltron Force?" Zarkon retorted sharply. Stung again, Lotor fell silent, glowering at his father. "And with the losses our fleets suffered in your failed attack on Arus, we had nothing ready to repel the latest Starfleet incursion. Now they've got a base at Arus! And reinforcements!"

Haggar would have mentioned the fact that the base was only a small piece of the whole, and that the reinforcement was one ship. She would also have mentioned that the _Berlin_ was out of commission and under repair. But she thought better of it.

The King was displeased, but there were hidden benefits in his displeasure. He had been disappointed by the performance of the ionized topaz weapons, and though she knew he'd continue to use them, she also knew that they were no longer a threat to her standing. His continued reliance on her robeasts was assured. Also, her demonstration of infiltrating the Castle of Lions without the Voltron Force's knowledge would surely pay off in the future.

"But do not forget, Father," Lotor said, finally finding his voice, "that we have a base on Arus, too."

Zarkon paused a moment. He had almost forgotten, so long had his garrisons there been in hiding. Nodding slowly, he said, "So we do."

"Perhaps, then, it is time to use it."

Zarkon smiled, just slightly, his fangs becoming slightly more obvious. "Perhaps it is, my son. For once, you may be right." He rose from his chair, sweeping his scepter toward his son. "Contact the Konogg Brigade. They are to prepare for action and await further orders."

Lotor nodded. "At once, Father," he said. Turning on his heel, he quickly left the room, his cape billowing behind him.

Alone, the King looked at Haggar. "Even the Konogg Brigade cannot stand up to Voltron. They will need reinforcement."

Haggar smiled, stroking her blue cat. "Of course, Sire. I know just what they need."

"Good. Then see to your robeasts."

"Yes, sire," Haggar replied, shrinking into the shadows.

"And this time, see that you don't skimp on the lazon."

Haggar, dumbfounded, stared at him a moment, then left.

Zarkon sat back into his chair. He'd known right along that Haggar had cut down the charge he'd ordered for the turtle robeast. The witch should've known better. Her robeasts had always been key to his strategies, and so would they remain. Terror was often a more effective weapon than missiles, and nothing could terrify like Haggar's magical constructs.

Still, he'd have to watch her closely now. What else might she do if she felt threatened?

He pondered this and many other questions as he reached for the goblet of blood-red drink at his elbow. He had much to ponder now, and there would, he knew, be more questions before there were answers.

_A/N: Well, that's it for this story. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, especially to RL2 and Crash. You guys are great. To everyone else, your support is greatly appreciated. It'll probably be a while before I post the next story. I have to get some things in order so that I don't go months between posts. _

_Ina side note, I learned today that James Doohan, known to generations of Trekkies as Montgomery Scott, cheif engineer of the original Starship Enterprise, died yesterday of Alzheimers and pneumonia. He will be missed._

_Again, thanks for all the great reviews, and I hope to see everyone again for the next installation of Star Tron. Until then, this is MustangAce wishing you fair weather and check 6._


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